


Talk to Me

by Larry_you_know



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Baker Harry, Bottom Harry, Bottom Louis, Daddy Kink, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, Jealousy, Light Angst, Louis family is different, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Music, Niall Horan & Harry Styles Friendship, POV Harry Styles, Panic Attacks, Past Harry Styles/Original Male Character(s), Past Relationship(s), Sad Louis, Slow Burn, Top Harry, Top Louis, Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, guitar playing, implied/ referenced minor character death, music teacher Louis, side Ziam, they kinda share that really, well not between Larry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:01:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 57,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26345290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larry_you_know/pseuds/Larry_you_know
Summary: AU fic set in London. Harry is 26 years old and always dives into everything. He's got a great job and is overall very happy with his life. One thing is maybe missing and that's a boyfriend who would want to settle down with him. After Harry meets with his new neighbours, it seems, he can really have it all. But what happens when he falls for someone who would rather avoid any serious attachment?Fic full of little misunderstanding, secrets but yet quite mature conversations about serious topics.Or the one where Harry is carefree dreamer who tries to turn his friendship with Louis into something more. Louis is an adorable music teacher who hasn't been treated the best by life so far.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan/Original Female Character(s), Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Comments: 67
Kudos: 136





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lou_and_I](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lou_and_I/gifts).



> Hi there, this is my first fan fic. Hope you will like it.
> 
> I would like to thank my beta [NattieFOURLarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NattieFOURLarry), you helped me a lot, and talented [Bibi](https://twitter.com/Mondthymian) for her amazing drawing she made just for this fic. I'm forever grateful to both of you. Thank you.  
> Sending all my love to my girls who kept me going and supported me. If it weren't for you, I'd probably give up in the middle...  
> Special thanks to [Lou_and_I](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lou_and_I), this one is for you. 
> 
> To my dear readers, this is story with some secrets, with some hard times but with happy ending. I'll try my best to warn you before some triggering subjects will make appearance.
> 
> This is work of fiction. I just borrowed these beloved characters to play in my story. Things portrayed in this fan fic are not real.

“Fookin’ hell, Harry, next time I’ll just burn all your shit. It would be much easier than to move it.”

“Calm down, Ni. We won’t be moving again anytime soon," Harry assured, "this place is perfect for us.”

“That’s what you said the last time, mate.” Niall motioned towards the boxes. "And here we are once again."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Oh shut up and put your arms to good use."

The issue was that this was the fourth time they've moved in three years. But it was definitely not Harry’s fault, for the most part it wasn’t, they've just had a string of bad luck.

Their first flat after uni was the smallest place known to mankind and unfortunately the only reasonably priced place at the time. Let's just say their dorms had been more spacious and well, the move was agreed upon unanimously.

Flat number two was so much larger, Harry and Niall felt like they were living in the Taj Mahal or something similar to it. The only problem had been that this 'palace' was just above the No Hurry Chicken Curry bistro and their initially good and beneficial relationship with the owners went downhill after Harry had accidentally flooded their shop when Dylan called him to come over for a quick shag and he magically forgot to close the tap for his bath.

And this time Harry took the blame, especially when nothing-can-upset-me Niall was mad at him for at least a week after they had been banished for life from Niall's favorite bistro. No one was allowed to ruin the relationship between Niall and delicious food, not even Harry.

Luckily, to make it up to his friend, Harry found a spacious flat for an even better price! It had three bedrooms, a chef's kitchen that opened up into the living room, and a bathroom without a tub.

Niall didn't hesitate. He said yes immediately.

However, as it turned out, the neighbourhood hadn’t been what they anticipated. The drug dealers loitering at their corner may have had something to do with it or possibly the police sirens waking them up at 2 a.m. every night. It was a toss up really, a combination of the two, or maybe they just needed their beauty rest.

Needless to say, they moved after seven long, excruciating months (it was about six months past the time they should have left).

Lastly, and this one has a happy ending, Harry stumbled upon a place in a quaint little neighbourhood nestled in the outskirts of London. The building was decent, free of those unsavory folks, and their lease was fair, enough.

The bathroom had a tub though, a deal breaker for Niall, but Harry managed to convince his best, most handsome friend it was worth it and totally a steal! As long as Harry ceased taking baths.

Fine. Harry will hang onto his bath bombs for when he goes home to visit his mother. No big deal.

Another positive, they were closer to work. Basically, life was good. And it got even better the moment they met a gorgeous man in the lobby where they’ve been trying to rearrange some of Harry’s heavier boxes full of obscure neo-classicist literature.

The man approached them, “Hi, you’re new to 4A, right?”

Niall spoke first, evidently unfazed by the perfection standing before him, “Yep, we’re the newbies in 4A. M’ Niall, this is my Harry.” Harry's neck practically snapped in two as he turned his head so fast.

My Harry!?

“I'm Zayn, 5A," he extended his hand for a shake, "welcome to the building. Handsome couple if I might add."

Is his friend trying to destroy his chances with this Greek God? What the fuck. This gorgeous man assumed they were lovers. Harry was no lover. Well he was a lover, but certainly not Niall’s lover.

Niall just cackled, took the stranger's outstretched hand, “Oh no, no, we're friends. Unlike Harry, I’m into women.”

Harry's cheeks reddened, “Well, thanks Ni, how sweet of you to out me."

Zayn winked and his insides may have turned to mush, "Oh, don’t worry, Harry, I kinda swing that way as well." The man waved his goodbyes and left.

What just happened?

“Did you see that? He winked. He just winked at me,” Harry reached for his friend, shook Niall by the arm. "Niall!"

His friend remained adamant though, “Don’t you dare, Styles. I'm not moving again. If you fuck this up I’ll just kick you out. I don’t care. I'm not leaving, nor moving your stuff ever again.” And without another word he turned around, hefted the box of Harry’s complete edition of Daniel Defoe’s works further up in his arms and marched in the direction of the lift.

Harry followed after his friend with a wide grin and a bit of hopefulness.

Forty-eight hours and two cases of beer later, they were finally finished unpacking, rearranging, organizing, fighting. The usual. Now it was Saturday afternoon with the prospect of a free Sunday ahead of them.

Harry plopped down on the sofa, "I'm tired.”

“Ah, don’t say that, mate. I thought we were going out, you know, to explore the area? Find some pub and grab a pint? Celebrate!?”

“I'm exhausted, Niall! And hungry. Very, very hungry. Let’s just order take-away and watch a movie," Harry reached for a monochromatic throw pillow, clutched it to his chest. "We can go out tomorrow."

“What, our resident chef doesn't want to cook? Then it’s serious,” Niall giggled.

“Oh, enough of you!" Harry quipped, “I’m just not in the mood that's all.” He'd hoped to run into Mr. Perfection actually, the God who lived just a floor above them. No such luck though.

Niall stood his ground, "Fine, but I want to actually go out and pick it up. I need fresh air or something."

"Fair enough," Harry agreed, not even reluctantly.

It was always so easy to compromise with Niall. They'd met on the first day at uni and had been inseparable since. Harry had always been a social person but Niall? Niall was a magnet; everyone always wanted to be his friend.

At first, they were just two idiots away from home, tasting freedom, having fun and pretending that nothing mattered. But as time went by, their bond had become stronger, and by the second year at uni, they were attached at the hip.

They supported one another through the chaos commonly known as university. Harry had been there for him when Niall went through a tough breakup. Niall got Harry's back when some dickheads didn't take well the fact that Harry was gay. They were each other's backbone and nothing could compromise their relationship. Unless it involved food, then Harry was chopped liver.

On the way back from picking up dinner at a local Asian restaurant, they saw a group of young women, holding what looked to be birthday gifts, entering their building.

Niall’s eyes widened immediately. Girls? Going to a birthday party? Heck, he wanted in! But it was a testament to their friendship that he didn’t say anything and instead followed Harry into the flat for a quiet dinner at home.

A quiet dinner and no girls.

They were eating straight from the containers at the kitchen table, Harry with chopsticks while Niall used a fork – he always claimed that chopsticks were some eastern form of torture and an inhuman way of slowly starving people to death – as they discussed an upcoming shoot Niall was in charge of at work.

He certainly had a hell of a week ahead of him.

Harry was proud of himself though. About six months ago he made the decision to leave the advertising agency they both had been working for. He didn’t have to deal with that insane pace and clients who, to say it in simple terms, got a stick up their arses. He found himself a position at the local planetarium as a Creative PR Specialist because work was supposed to bring a smidgen of satisfaction, happiness, and pleasure to some degree.

And he found it.

His new employer offered him enough freedom and a large enough budget to experiment with ideas and events, prove his worth and creativity. It was encouraging and continued to challenge him in a positive way. 'Space geeks’, as he called all planetarium visitors, were a grateful clientele and that was something he never experienced before.

Niall dropped his fork, “Harry, do you hear that?" he announced, "I think the party is upstairs. We should go!"

Harry shook his head in disagreement, “To a party we're not invited to? I don't think it's a good idea."

“C’mon, we know that Zayn guy,” he gave Harry a knowing look, “it’s gotta be his birthday and he winked at you."

Harry was on the fence, his doubts of crashing a party weighed on his shoulder, but the prospect of flirting with Zayn was giving him ideas. Sexual ideas. “But we don’t have a gift. It’s rude to show up without a gift!"

"Whatever."

Thirty minutes and Harry’s private little fashion show later, during which he had tried on every shirt he owned, just to eventually go back to the very first one he’d tried, they were standing in front of 5A, armed with a bottle of whiskey from Niall’s collection that was wrapped in red cellophane.

Harry turned to his friend, “Thanks, Niall.”

"I mean I'd say you're welcome but I wouldn't know what for."

“You know, you sacrificed this special edition of Dead Rabbit for me to get laid, obviously, because you're a great friend," Harry laid on the sarcasm.

“No, you fooking wanker. I’m being neighbourly, that’s what this is. Being a good neighbour!" Niall poked Harry in the chest. "And you’re not getting any. I mean it, just tickle your fancy if you need, but keep it in your pants, Styles. For once.” Niall demanded and knocked on the door.

Harry's eyes widened in astonishment, "Wait but–"

The door swung open and a girl stood in the entryway, her expression nonplussed, “And you are?"

“Hi!" he greeted cheerfully, "I'm Harry.”

“Niall, nice to meet ya," Niall gave a small salute, "what’s your name?"

"Leigh-Anne, hi," she introduced herself, took a sip from her cup.

And when she didn't elaborate, Niall piped in once more, "Right! Is Zayn in?”

She held the door wider with her free hand, "Nice tats." She motioned with her chin towards Harry. His body froze. "Are you from the shop?"

"Shop?" he questioned, his confusion evident.

Leigh-Anne took another sip from her cup, gulped its contents down, "Never mind. Zayn's is someplace around here." She moved out of their way and walked off into the crowd, "Have fun!" she said from over her shoulder.

"What shop?" Harry asked Niall again when they entered.

His friend shrugged, "Dunno, mate."

"Yeah well, I hope all of these people are a little more welcoming," Harry pouted. They walked side by side through the throng of party goers. "Now I wonder where–"  
Harry did a double take when Niall was no longer next to him. He spotted his friend with Leigh-Anne, witnessed the magic that is Niall's charm. Harry chuckled, "Have fun."

And off he was into the crowd in search of Mr. Perfect.

Zayn’s flat had the same floor plan and yet it held a completely different aesthetic. He and Niall had a cozy home with muted colours, decorative pillows for the sofa, and an eclectic collection of accent pieces.

Zayn seemed to favour a more organic design – exposed ductwork and hardwood, greenery and hand painted artwork. On one wall there was a row of pots with vines extending up towards the ceiling creating an illusion of a secret garden, while the adjacent wall, covered in a large mural, reminded Harry of a page from a sketchbook.

He wandered closer for a better view, to touch it, to enjoy the beauty of such a simple yet intricate design. It was drawn on with what looks to be different hues of gray and blue, and a tinge of green to compliment the vines. It was magnificent.

Harry was absolutely amazed, “Wow– ”

“Harry?”

He flinched, slowly turned his head towards the voice, “Oh, hey– hi Zayn.” He blushed.

“What are you doing here?” Zayn asked, his tone cordial but perplexed considering the circumstances.

Harry felt out of place suddenly, “I'm sorry. We saw a few of your guests with presents earlier, then we heard the noise while we ate dinner so we assumed you were having a party and well, we wanted to say hi because you seem like a nice guy from when we ran into each other in the lobby!" Harry rambled, then proceeded to shove his gift into Zayn's grasp. “Here, we brought you whiskey. Niall is an enthusiast, so it should be pretty good!" he chuckled anxiously.

Zayn grinned, “Nah, I’m more of a beer kind of guy. But it's actually Liam’s birthday,” he corrected him. “I’m sure he’d love it though.”

Harry shifted his weight, “Oh.” Because who is Liam?

“Thanks for coming!”

“You mean 'thanks for crashing’?” Harry managed.

“I didn't want to be rude but–” Zayn snorted.

And that went better than Harry suspected. Zayn wasn’t upset and Harry could somewhat relax, maybe try to flirt a bit, regardless of what Niall demanded.

They sipped their beer, spoke with relative ease as if they’ve known one another for more than five minutes, discussed the mural Zayn designed and drew himself. It was the perfect ice breaker, gave Harry the confidence to casually test the waters and briefly touch Zayn’s forearm.

Zayn still continued with the conversation and was seemingly unfazed by the touch, a clear win in Harry's book. That was, until a random guy put his arm around Zayn’s shoulders and kissed him on the cheek.

“Here you are, bunny. I’ve missed you,” the man said.

“Awe, here I am, baby," Zayn crooned. “Li, this is Harry, one of our new neighbours from downstairs. Harry, this is Liam, my boyfriend and man of the hour!”

Harry plastered a smile on his face that probably looked as fake as it felt, “Happy birthday, mate, really nice to meet you.”

Zayn handed the now unwrapped bottle of whiskey to Liam, “Look what Harry brought you.” And he winked. At Liam. Oh, so the wink from earlier apparently didn't mean anything.

Shit.

“Oh wow! Thanks,” Liam turned to his boyfriend, “let’s have a taste!” He turned back to Harry, “Yeah? Would you like some too?”

“Nah, you enjoy it, it’s all yours. I'm going to grab another beer, if it’s alright with you.” With that Harry quickly excused himself and hurried towards the kitchen.

Lord, that was beyond embarrassing. Niall was right, they would have to move. Why was Harry always such a fuck up especially when it came to cute boys? Or in this case, when it came to god-like creatures with eyelashes for days?

Why can't he just keep it in his pants!?

But before he could stew in his rising panic, he was greeted by a man with a sadistic grin and chiseled jawline, “Very entertaining.” And apparently cheeky tongue.

“What?” Harry started at the unexpected comment and even more so at the sight before him.

Woah.

The man had his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, his stance wide in an attempt to appear intimidating, “It was very amusing, watching you flirt with Zayn right under Liam’s nose on his birthday. Now I can't help but wonder if you are really that presumptuous or just foolish?”

“Wasn’t flirting,” Harry mumbled in response to the pretty accurate description of his behaviour.

Not that he was going to admit it. Especially not to someone he didn’t know, like the guy in front of him, with the grin that had miraculously widened within the last five seconds.

“Don’t lie to me, love,” teased the stranger.

“I’m not!” Harry defended himself.

The stranger only continued calling out Harry's blatant flirting, “I saw it. Liam saw it. You were hitting on him. Only Zayn was clueless, the poor sod.”

“Oh, fine,” Harry groaned. There was just no way of denying it, was there? “Right I’ll just- yep, I’m going now.” He turned to leave.

But a delicate hand stopped him in his tracks, “Wait, Curly. You're one of those two new lads? From downstairs? Zayn told us about you.”

“Guilty,” Harry raised his hand. “I'm Harry. My friend Niall is around here, someplace.”

“Louis,” the man introduced himself. “It was the wink, I know.”

"Wait, come again?” Harry gripped the beer bottle in his hand.

Louis' grin widened further, “I’ve been friends with Liam and Zayn for ages. So I know how oblivious Zayn can be.” Louis assures. “He often sends the wrong signals, so don’t feel bad. You’re not the first nor will be the last guy who thought Zayn was flirting. And despite your attempt to make a move on his boyfriend, Liam seems to like you. Otherwise he would have ripped your head off.”

Harry grimaced at the thought of being beheaded, “Good to know.”

But they just laughed it off anyway, laughed and it wasn’t even forced. It felt natural, it felt good, it felt satisfying.

And suddenly Harry couldn’t help but admire the man before him, take in Louis’ black sneakers, denim jeans, and emerald polo with rolled-up sleeves, appreciate the feather-like fringe swept across his forehead. His eyes were a bright blue, both intriguing and kind, striking against the soft lighting of the room. Harry was transfixed on his beauty, his velvety lips, sharp jawline, and prominent cheekbones. He wondered what it would feel like to touch Louis’ stubbled cheek?

Harry supposed everyone in this part of town resembled a model of some sort because even though he wasn't his type, Liam was quite the looker too, and probably posed for an underwear brand.

Damn it. Hold your horses, Styles – echoed through his head in Niall's voice.

Rather than dwell upon it, Harry gestured towards Louis’ hand, “What does the 28 mean?”

Louis instinctively touched his hand, admired the small tattoo, “It’s a squad number, I used to play footie quite a bit,“ Louis said. “I see you might be a tattoo addict as well,” Louis motioned towards Harry’s chest where two swallows peered out of his intentionally, practically unbuttoned shirt.

“Yeah, I have quite a lot of them.”

Louis continued grinning, “You will fit nice with us then, Zayn’s working at Needle Beetle down the street. I got most of mine from him.”

Ah, now Harry understood. The shop Leigh-Anne referred to earlier was in fact a tattoo parlour. Harry had to bite his tongue so he wouldn't ask Louis to show him all of his tattoos. He couldn't afford to look like he was flirting with a guy who accused him of flirting just a few moments ago.

Even though Louis was really beautiful, making friends was a better and safer option. For now.

They talked for a bit after that somewhat awkward meeting.

Harry found out Louis was a music teacher. He played the guitar, piano and even drums and clarinet. Teaching was a passion of his and it was important for him to share that love with his students, to hopefully shape the future of music.

Harry, well, he left out the whole public relations bit of his career so he only shared that he worked at the planetarium and kept the details to a minimum. He probably sounded like an underachiever but he needed a better work-life balance and he's achieved just that.

Louis also mentioned that he lives in a small flat about twenty minutes away. But he admitted he often stayed with Liam and Zayn, claimed their guestroom as his own since he used to actually live here and that room was in fact his.

Old habits die hard Harry supposed.

Later, when Harry found Niall, he was introduced to the group that had congregated around his friend. They seemed friendly, especially Leigh-Anne . But Harry was proud of himself. He managed to befriend Louis and not flirt.

It was a first.

Around two in the morning, Harry and Niall decided to call it a night, “Thank you guys for having us. And sorry again, Liam, for you know,” Harry shrugged, “crashing.” He extends his hand.

Liam, to his credit, took it immediately and used it to pull Harry into a one armed hug, “It’s already forgotten, don’t worry.”

“What about brunch at ours tomorrow? Maybe at eleven?” Harry offered.

“Yeah, come for brunch,” Niall added, “Harry is an excellent cook and we would love to make it up to you.”

“Sounds great, can we bring Lou as well? He's staying the night,” Zayn asked. Harry's heart stuttered in his chest at the thought of Louis tagging along.

“Of course, the more the merrier, right H?”

Harry nodded, “Sure."

Later that night, when Harry was tucked into bed, he couldn’t fall asleep. He could blame his restlessness on the menu he has planned for brunch tomorrow or the party and the people he met, his conversations on repeat in his head like a broken record. Or maybe he's still not over the wink, Harry's not sure but maybe he'll figure it out eventually.


	2. Two

It was half past nine by the time Harry awoke, the sun shining through the window reminding him he forgot to draw the curtains last night. He should be annoyed since his beauty sleep was rudely interrupted, but he had guests coming, he had to get up and _go_!

After a quick shower, he was in the kitchen gathering ingredients, preparing, stirring, singing along to Van Morrison. He was in his element. 

Niall eventually joined him.

“Morning, H. Smells good in here,” Niall yawned, stretched his arms over his head. “Need any help?”

“Take a shower, my dear Niall, then you can set the table.”

At eleven sharp there was a knock at the door, “They’re here!” Niall announced like it wasn’t obvious enough.

“And right on time too,” Harry mumbled. 

They entered the kitchen with an overenthusiastic Niall trailing behind. His eyes found Louis first; the blue eyes, red lips, simple white t-shirt. He may have drooled a little.

“Good morning,” Zayn said, his hand securely holding Liam’s.

Niall directed them to the expertly decorated table, “Hope you’re hungry, mates, because Harry’s insane and cooked for like twelve people!”

“I can hear you, you arsehole,” Harry said from over his shoulder.

“Niall wasn’t kidding,” Zayn said as he took in the spread before them. “Harry even gave us place settings with matching cloth napkins!”

Liam took a seat first, “I was going to apologise for not bringing anything, too.” He patted the chair next to him for Zayn to sit. “That would have been too much I think.”

“You’ll be full for quite a while,” Niall assured, rubbed at his belly. “I’ve gained a couple of pounds because of this one,” he motioned with his head towards Harry as he approached, “right here.”

“Not my problem,” he placed a coffee pot on the table, “okay! So we’ve got a choice this morning–“

“Oh, Mary Berry, you’ve out done yourself!” Louis exclaimed.

His cheeks reddened, “Possibly. I can be over the top sometimes.” 

Niall cackled, “ _Sometimes_!?”

But Harry glared at his friend, “ _Anyway_.” He turned back to his guests. “On the menu today, we have…”

There were waffles with berries, maple syrup, chocolate hazelnut spread, and whipped cream, toasted whole grain bread, eggs, cheddar, and an assortment of jams. He made blueberry muffins too, a staple in his kitchen. He also put out smoked salmon, chia almond butter, strawberries, and avocado.

Harry swiped at his brow, “I think that’s–” their guests began laughing amongst themselves then. “What? I know it’s a bit much, but I wanted to be hospitable.” He looked to a perplexed Niall. “What did I do?” He scratched at his curly head. 

“Nothing!!” Liam interjected. “It’s actually a running joke between us.” 

“Yeah, so don’t start Lou,” Zayn warned.

Harry wanted to crawl into a hole from embarrassment, “Can someone please tell me?”

“Just the _fookin’_ avocados,” Louis started.

"Here we go.” Liam grumbled.

“What’s wrong with avocados?” Harry and Niall asked in unison.

“Trendiest food of all time. They do piss me off, _avocados_ ,” Louis practically spitted the word. “It’s like we’re in LA or something. _Let’s have some avocado toast_ ,” he teased. “Who even eats that!?” Harry remained silent, watched Louis go on and on about avocados. It made him wonder what else Louis was passionate about.

“Coming up for air anytime soon, Lou?” Zayn asked. “Or are you going to continue being an arse?”

Louis grinned, “Besides it really does look amazing, Harry. Can’t wait to dig in.”

“I’ll be sure to avoid avocados in the future then,” Harry said to not offend his guest. But he’ll be sure to sneak the fruit into Louis’ plate somehow in the future as revenge.

Their conversation was fun, entertaining, a relaxing time for all five of them. They over indulged, drank too much tea, and coffee, may have added a splash of liquor to their orange juice. 

It's similar to a mimosa, right?

Zayn explained to Harry and Niall how he left Uni to pursue his dream as a tattoo artist, convinced Liam to let Zayn tattoo him. Liam was bashful but he admitted he always loved being a canvas for Zayn as long as he could hide his tattoos under his work shirt due to his profession. As an attorney, his image was important to his employer as well as his clients, so the ink stopped at his wrists.

Harry agreed with Liam’s concerns, he had felt the same with his former employer. But Harry didn’t have to hide tattoos at work anymore. His superiors at the planetarium gave him more leeway, more freedom to be himself rather than follow specific guidelines. Zayn’s eyes lit up and immediately offered to tattoo him at any time. 

Harry liked that idea. He would have to make an appointment as soon as possible.

Despite being the only one without tattoos, Niall didn’t feel left out. He was proud of it and claimed that his virgin skin helped him score any chick he wanted. Harry believed he was afraid and could never admit to it. 

That’s something he’ll keep to himself though.

Once finished, they moved to the sitting area. Zayn and Liam were cuddling together on the love seat, Niall and Louis took the couch, and Harry sat cross-legged on the carpet cradling a cup of tea (but it’s also quite possible he snuck a splash of whiskey when no one was looking).

“Oh,” Louis pointed to the guitar in the corner leaning up against the wall, his eyes shining, “who plays?”

Niall raised his hand, “Me! And I’m pretty good too.”

“Show off,” Harry murmured.

“Play for me,” Louis practically demanded.

And so Niall did. He played the riff to _Here Comes the Sun_ , and _Never Going Back Again_ , he sang _This Town_ and another nameless tune he started a few days ago but was considering naming it _Nice to Meet Ya_ . 

“So you’re a song writer too,” Louis commented once Niall was finished.

Niall nodded, “Yup. Harry helped me with the lyrics and some of the chords too.”

Louis’ eyes widened, “You can play?” he turned his attention to Harry, watched him intently.

Harry felt exposed, “Just a bit.”

Louis frowned, “Why not tell me last night when I was babbling about myself?”

His face reddened, “I felt a bit intimidated by you since you’re a professional and I’m just, you know, self-taught and not that good.”

“Ah, that’s nonsense, Harry,” Niall objected.

“Why don’t you come over to mine and I can give you lessons, make you more confident?” Louis pointed to himself. “What do you think?”

Harry was hesitant to jump on the offer, weighed his options, kept reminding himself to not _fuck up_ but in the end, he decided it was beneficial for him. He wanted to make friends so why not? He isn’t blatantly flirting or coming onto Louis. He just wanted guitar lessons which is a good enough reason.

“That sounds great,” he agreed, “give me a time and address and I’ll be there.”

After a bit Niall and Harry went to the kitchen to make a fresh batch of spiked English Breakfast tea – oh what the hell, they wanted to live a little –- and gathered a dozen or so iced sugar cookies Harry baked a few days ago when they unpacked his baking supplies.

Harry turned to Niall who was pouring a liberal amount of liquor into the carafe, “I think that’s enough–” he went quiet when Zayn’s voice echoed into the kitchen.

“You’re already inviting Harry to your place?” Liam teased. 

Or was it?

“Yeah, Lou, I didn’t believe I would live to see the day you actually fancied someone,” Zayn added.

“Don’t start with the bullshit again. He’s just a lad,” Louis said. “I don’t do _that_ and I most certainly don’t fancy anyone. This is my profession and I’m simply extending a helping hand.”

Harry’s stomach sank and he didn’t know why. Maybe it was hurt? Maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to go? Is there time to rescind Louis’ offer?

By the early evening, Liam and Zayn left for a dinner date and Louis decided that he should be going as well since tomorrow was Monday and he had some preparations to do before he went to sleep.

After their farewells, Niall and Harry ordered two pizzas – with _no_ pineapple because gross – and shared some quality time together rehashing the weekend, added how happy they were to have met such wonderful friends.

They agreed that Liam and Zayn were a really cute couple and should have been labelled as relationship goals. They admired how they talked about one another with so much love, and despite the fact that they seemed to have different personalities, it was obvious how well they complemented each other. 

Niall curiously asked what Harry thought of Louis. But Harry brushed him off with “yeah, he’s a cool guy” and only later when he had his regular Sunday phone call with his older sister Gemma, he admitted to her that he had met a man.

“He’s very lovely, has these bright, intriguing blue eyes, is so wonderful and kind, and intelligent,” he sighed. “He’s a teacher too, plays many instruments, just very impressive in general. But he’s not into me romantically.” He said with regret.

Harry went on to tell Gemma what he overheard in the kitchen.

“My dear baby brother, I think you are already in too deep,” she admitted.

“No, no, Louis is just a great person to just sit and kind of like, admire what he’s like, you know? Did I mention to you that he’s a music teacher?”

“Only twice, Harry,” Gemma chuckled.

They agreed to meet on Tuesday night after work at a local bar called _Red Light_. Harry and Liam were there first, Zayn and Louis joined them about ten minutes later. Liam was in a mood to celebrate since he was promoted as leader of a small legal group which was assigned to deal with a rather important client. 

Zayn kissed Liam’s temple the moment he sat down, reached for his boyfriend’s hand and held it close, “I’m so proud of you,” he whispered. “I knew you could do it.”

Their conversation consisted of hushed _I told you so’s_ and _congratulations baby_ and an occasional kiss. It was an adorable display of affection and it was making Harry jealous, very…

Very jealous.

“I’m glad _someone_ had a good day though,” Zayn said aloud this time.

Liam knitted his eyebrows, gave his boyfriend his undivided attention, “Why? What happened, bunny?” 

“I had an unruly customer who booked me for most of the early afternoon, didn’t have a clue what she wanted, and then had her significant other on the phone, gave him a list of groceries she wanted him to buy,” Zayn cradled his head in his hands. “Then she started discussing her menstrual cycle–”

“I’ll go get us drinks,” Harry stood up having heard enough of this conversation, “be right back!” He sauntered off before Louis or Liam could reject. “Dodged a bullet on that one.” He murmured.

Harry approached the bar, spotted a familiar face, “Hi Jesy,” he waved. “I didn’t know you worked here.” Jesy was one of the girls Harry and Niall met at Liam’s birthday party. She was friends with Leigh-Anne.

“Hey, Harry!” she grinned. “Why do you think boys like hanging out here so much?” she asked. 

Harry shrugged, “I guess it’s all coming full circle.”

She placed a napkin down on the counter, “What would you like?”

“Make it four beers, please, and eight shots of tequila.”

“On it,” she nodded. 

One of her male colleagues turned to them, motioned to Harry “Jes, who’s your new friend?” 

“Nick, this is Harry, we met at Liam’s birthday party the other night,” she introduced them.

“Oh, _Harry_ , I’m Nick,” he said, his tone coquettish.

Harry waved, “Likewise,” and smiled. 

Nick seemed friendly, was sort of cute, just about Harry’s height, slim frame, his overtly sexual attitude wasn’t Harry’s type but who was he to judge, right? Maybe it was part of Nick's flirting game. Nick had round hazel eyes, messy brown hair, and two rings on his right hand that caught his attention almost immediately. 

Harry liked rings, collected them, maybe he was obsessed actually.

He has a jewellery box filled with rings of various sizes, colours, and designs. He even has matching, gold plated _H_ and _S_ rings that he spent an arm and leg for, basically blew two paychecks worth on and had to live off of his savings for a few weeks. It was an impulse purchase that he would never regret making because they were a gift to himself after his first major break up. They reminded him that he is worthy of love and happiness just like everyone else. 

And the best way to start over is loving and being happy with himself first.

While Jesy worked on Harry’s order, Nick was distracting him, claiming his attention, attempting to convince Harry to try one of his fruity _cock_ tails. He almost agreed until Louis appeared unexpectedly.

Harry felt the prickling of sweat along his brow.

“Need any help, love?” Louis asked. “Hi Jesy, Nick.” he greeted, although the way he said Nick’s name made Harry wonder why it had a tinge of annoyance to it.

Harry couldn’t help but ogle Louis then, even if it were only for a fleeting moment, “Yeah, Lou, that’ll be great. I’ll take beer, can you carry the shots?” Harry waved _bye_ to a crestfallen Nick and followed Louis back to their table where Zayn was still gushing over that horrible customer at _Needle Beetle_. 

“Here you go, guys,” he placed the drinks down. “Let’s toast to Liam, marvellous legal group leader and the only lawyer I know.”

They were all a bit tipsy by the time Niall arrived after his rather stressful day at work. He met Perrie and Leigh-Anne at the bar and bought them both a drink. Harry wondered if they were one of Nick’s creations. He considered having a cocktail too, but thought twice after Nick's reaction earlier, so he stayed loyal to beer and a sporadic shot of tequila. 

_Red Light_ was a popular place to gather for people their age, its bohemian decor and relaxed atmosphere an attractive feature. The background music was an eclectic mix of acoustic pop and indie, some soft classic rock as well. It was a vibing place.

No wonder it was packed on a Tuesday night.

Niall turned most, if not all, of his attention to the girls. Harry couldn’t blame him though. This was indeed his element and he didn’t want to get in between the opportunity of his friend possibly meeting someone. So he mainly spoke with Liam and Louis. 

And to be honest, he hasn’t laughed that much in a long time. Louis was sassy and with his long-time friend Liam they were unstoppable, the perfect duo. Harry didn’t catch all the inside jokes, but he still had a great time and felt like he belonged.

They all left a little after midnight. 

Niall called a cab for the girls, Louis said his goodbyes and headed in the opposite direction, while the four of them slowly wandered home. Liam and Zayn sucked each other’s faces off on every other corner and Niall begged them to fuck quietly once they got home since his room was right below their bedroom. Harry knew he would fall asleep immediately, so he just laughed at Niall’s expense.

  
  



	3. Three

The next morning, Harry was sitting at his desk with a hangover distracting him from his tasks, his daydreaming completely diverting his attention from doing anything mildly productive. 

What a heady combination.

He was supposed to be focusing on new ideas to get local schools more involved with the various educational programmes the planetarium was offering. An easy task. But it was such a nice September day outside, he just couldn’t bring himself to focus. And with his head pounding? Everything seemed impossible.

His phone vibrated against his desk then, the text from an unknown number causing yet another distraction.

_\-- Hi, still interested in that lesson?_

Huh, lesson? What lesson? Harry was not interested in any kind of _lesson_. Someone probably got the number wrong. He was thinking about what he should reply with if he should politely inform them they got the wrong number or – and he was feeling a bit cheeky – that in his case it is too late for any life lessons. 

He had to giggle at his own joke. But his phone went off again.

_\-- Harold, this is Louis. Got your number from Niall_

Oh, on the other hand, Harry was _very_ interested in any lesson Louis could offer him – maybe a lesson on how he preferred to be _stroked_. Boy, oh boy, he even got second-hand embarrassment from his thoughts!

How pathetic. 

But he had his reasons! He was going crazy, craving intimacy, becoming insanely jealous of Liam and Zayn’s relationship. He needed _some_ in the worst way and his hand just wasn’t cutting it at this point. And being so close to a man as good-looking as Louis wasn’t helping the situation. 

The last time he got laid was with Ben about two months ago, just before summer. It was a brief, physically pleasing relationship but it lacked any substance along the actual _boyfriend_ front, so they ended it. And now, with having to deal with a dry summer, casual sex seemed like the only option even though it was not ideal for him.

**_\-- I beg your pardon, Lewis._ **

_\-- Harold?_

**_\-- Today?_ **

_\-- I’_ _m usually busy on Wednesdays. Tomorrow?_

**_\-- I_** **’ _m free. I can stop at home for my guitar after work. And then_ _I_ _’_ _m_ _yours._**

_\-- You can borrow one of mine_

**_\-- K. I promise I’ll be gentle._ **

_\-- You better be. I’ll text you the address_

On Thursday, Harry went home first anyway. It was still hot outside, so he wanted to take a shower and quickly change. He decided on beige linen shorts, a white button down, and white sneakers. Something simple, comfortable, casual, _unassuming_. He also wore the H and S rings for good luck. 

He shoved a pair of sunglasses on his head to tame his curls and was about to leave when Niall burst through the door.

“Hi, H, what are you doing here? I thought you went straight to Louis’ after work?" 

“I’m just about to leave, Ni,” he clarified. “And what about you? I thought you had work till late?”

Niall grinned, “Actually, I have a date.”

“And you haven’t told me?” Harry gasped, mocked his hurt. “Who is the lucky lady, then?”

“Well, her name is Yasmin, we met in a coffee shop, and honestly I’m lucky she even agreed to go out with me.”

“You’re nervous about a date!?" he couldn’t hide his surprise because... _Niall!?_

Niall shrugged, “Dunno. Maybe I’m not her type? She didn’t respond that well to my usual pick up lines.”

“Here’s a thought, maybe try something new?” he suggested.

Niall cackled, “Harry, aren’t you all wise suddenly?”

“I’ve always been full of wisdom, my young Padawan.“

“Rather full of shit.”

“I need to go, you Casanova. Good luck,” Harry called to him as he rushed out the door.

About twenty minutes later, Harry was outside Louis’ building with a bakery box filled with strawberry muffins. He would have baked but he didn’t have enough time and he didn’t know what Louis liked. He was only certain that he hated avocados but what if he wanted something savoury or maybe he hated strawberries too. 

He took a deep breath, lightly touched his sweaty brow, “Chill out.” he reminded himself and opened the door the moment he was buzzed in. “It’s just a lesson, not a date. Who cares how he feels?” But he wanted Louis to like him, he continued to mentally rant as he made his way up. He wanted to be friends with Louis too but there was something special about him that he enjoyed.

And he had to figure it out.

“Hi, Lou. How are you?” Harry greeted.

Louis waved, returned the sentiment with a crooked grin, “I’m good, Curly, welcome to my humble abode.” 

Harry held up the box, “I hope you like strawberry muffins.”

“Ah, yes, muffins. I enjoy a good muffin,” Louis gestured to Harry to come in.

“Glad to hear it. Next time, maybe we can maybe bake together,” he suggested as another excuse to spend more time with Louis.

Louis closed the door, “I can barely boil water! Let alone _bake_!”

“Well I can give you, you know,” he found Louis’ eyes, “give you lessons? As a thank you of course,” he added to not sound too eager.

Louis simply smiled, nodded, “Sure, why not, I’d like that.”

Harry went weak at the knees, “Awesome.”

“Great, so–” Louis pointed behind him, “wanna quick tour before we start?” 

“Sure, sure, lead the way.” 

The flat was slightly smaller than Harry’s, sparsely furnished, simple, and clean. The hallway lacked any pictures, wall decor, or any personal effects. It was a blank slate.

They passed a closed door which Louis pointed to, “I’m sure you don’t care about the linen closet.”

Harry gripped the box tighter, “Not at all.” They pass the loo as well.

“Good,” they stood just outside a small room at the end of the hall. “Bedroom.” he motioned to the austerely furnished space.

“I guess you like blue?” Harry walked in mindlessly, found the white walls and blue comforter and curtains. Another blank canvas. Maybe Harry could help him?

“It matches my eyes,” Louis rushed in after him.

Besides the bed and nightstand stood a shelf which housed books and a single picture frame, the only personal touch in the flat he’s seen so far. 

It immediately caught Harry’s attention, “Cute picture, is this your family, Lou?” When he didn’t reply, he turned towards Louis, found he’s a little pale. “You okay?” 

Louis’ eyes widened, his fingers in tight fists at his sides, “Y-yeah, it’s old. That’s my mum Roselyn and my brother Charlie.” 

“You look happy,” Harry commented, having nothing else to say. 

“We were,” Louis’ answer was clipped. 

“Were? You’re not anymore?” Harry probed although the longer he continued, the more clenched Louis’ fists became.

He cleared his throat, “It’s complicated. Do you have any siblings?” Louis turned on his heel and swiftly left the room.

Harry followed, “Yeah, actually I have an older sister, Gemma. Love her to death. She’s a menace, quite cheeky on occasion. I think you would get along well. She also kinda loves making fun of me.” he giggled. “But after my mum, she is the best woman I know. She lives in London too, but we don’t always have time to see each other, you know, because of our busy schedules. We talk a lot over the phone, though. I consider her to be one of my best friends.”

“That’s great,” Louis replied half-heartedly. “Last but not least, the living room.” he motioned when they entered the space.

The room had a fluffy grey rug, a cream coloured sofa with, you guessed it, blue throw pillows, and matching armchair. The coffee table was mid-century inspired, very chic. 

There were two acoustic guitars hung up on the wall behind the sofa, the third holder was empty – it was probably the place for the beauty leaning against the armchair. One electric and one bass guitar were in the floor-stands, no television, just a library full of unorganized books. Next to it there was a small work table with papers scattered about and an empty cup. In the corner, on the way to the kitchen sat an upright piano.

“Oh, it’s a cute place,” Harry said. 

“Cute?” Louis grunted. “I was thinking masculine, _rugged_.”

Harry snorted, “Not even close.”

Louis flopped down on the armchair, “Shitty and empty then?” He picked up his guitar resting beside him, and gently strummed a tune. 

Harry was transfixed on his fingers as they moved gracefully across the neck and frets, each chord a beautiful sound to his ears, “It’s you, very you. It may seem quite simple. But underneath the exterior lies something deeper, something intricate and lovely.” He flushed at his inane comment, shook himself from Louis’ spell. “Your instruments are better decorations than any of the pictures I have hung up on my wall!” he recovered.

“They’re not decorations, Harold!” he corrected him and stopped playing. He hesitated a moment. “It’s not much, but I had to move out of Zayn and Liam’s place to, you know, become an adult.” He stood up, looked past Harry with glassy eyes as if lost in thought. “I’m over there all the time but I’m getting used to being alone. I guess it takes time… and it’s just a flat.”

Harry instinctively moved closer to his friend, extended his hand to touch Louis’ arm, “Louis?”

He flinched, “Anyway. Want some tea?”

“I guess?” Harry dropped his arm.

“Cool,” he walked towards the kitchen. “Start playing! Let’s see what I’m working with.”

Harry inspected the remaining acoustic guitars lining the wall, “Which one?”

“You can play her as well, you know, she has a beautiful sound,” he pointed to the sofa. “She’s my favourite, but I play them all. So be my guest.”

Harry felt bashful. How could he just start _playing_ on command? It was too much pressure!

Louis had to sense his hesitation, “Harry, I’ll make us some tea while you start without me, okay? Yorkshire and the strawberry muffin sound good?” 

Harry nodded.

When he disappeared in the kitchen and only when Harry heard the clinking of dishes, did he find the courage to begin. 

He started playing _Skinny Love_ , a song which Niall had taught him a long time ago. Just, usually when he did play, he was a bit tipsy at least or quite drunk at best. Drunken people had no fear or inhibition. He knew Louis would never laugh at him, but he wanted to make a good impression. 

Damn, he was nervous. 

_“My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my,”_ he sang anyway, got a bit braver, but immediately went back to humming. Then he just started singing because why the hell not. He loved this song. It was tender, a song that made you feel _something_.

_And I told you to be patient_

_And I told you to be fine_

_And I told you to be balanced_

_And I told you to be kind_

_And in the morning, I’ll be with you_

_But it will be a different kind_

_And I’ll be holding all the tickets_

_And you’ll be owning all the fines_

But as he made it to the second stanza, Louis joined him on piano. Harry’s voice was silenced by how beautiful it came together. He continued on guitar, while Louis was singing like an angel sent from heaven and Harry was speechless. 

As Louis was approaching the second chorus, he told Harry to join him. And wow. Their voices complemented each other so well. 

It was unbelievable.

After the chorus, Louis stopped playing, “Harry, you go,” and listened to how Harry was strumming along the verse.

_Who will love you?_

_Who will fight?_

_Who will fall far behind?_

Harry finished the song, but Louis’ fingers touched the keys again as he continued on 

_Come on, skinny love_

_My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my_

They fell silent then. 

Harry had to let it sink. What the hell just happened? He felt like they had reached the stars. He was totally amazed by Louis’ skills. 

“And this exactly is why I was intimidated by you,” Harry admitted, breaking the silence.

“Bullshit, Harold, you’re really good,” Louis encouraged. “I’m not sure why you were hesitant. You’ve got talent.”

His face is red hot, “You think?”

“Yes,” Louis continued, “you just need confidence and that’s where I come in! We can practice together.”

“Oh, sure. Thanks!” Harry would make any excuse to hang out with Louis and to be able to spend time with him and listen to him play and sing? Count him in!

Louis found his eyes, held his gaze steady, “Your voice is beautiful, too. You should sing more often, maybe try to prepare a tune you’ve never performed before. That’ll help bring out your confidence.”

After a couple more hours of playing, Harry left feeling as if he were on cloud nine. It was such a nice evening, a learning experience really because he was able to understand Louis a bit better, scratched the surface, made a dent possibly.

And he couldn’t wait to find out more.

Harry arrived home to an empty flat, which could mean Niall was having a good time. Which also meant he needed to haul arse to his bedroom to avoid an awkward confrontation if Niall decided to bring her home.

And he didn’t want to be seen as _the_ nosy roomie.

As he was lying in bed, he couldn’t stop thinking about Louis singing one of his favourite songs. He looked so heavenly behind the piano, his dainty fingers moved with such skill over the keys, his movements were fluid and graceful. He couldn’t let it go. 

He couldn’t let Louis go.

**_\-- Thank you for today, Lou. Goodnight._ **

He texted him on a whim having this sudden urge to speak to him. 

_\-- Goodnight, muffin boy_

Muffin boy – he smiled to himself. He reached for his cell phone again and typed a message to Gemma:

**_\-- Gems, you might be right. I_** **’ _m in too deep. But I like it._**

_\-- Told ya, brother_

She sent him back right away and he giggled, she knew him so damn well. 

He heard Niall come in alone just after midnight. Alone. Well, the cross-examination could wait until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Skinny love](https://open.spotify.com/track/1NyFRrFiJAJIaR6icj1goI?si=xMcNNky8REeYmBSbKuRQKA) by Bon Iver is just one of the songs I like. Imagine Harry playing it. Aww. For reference of Louis joining him on piano listen [version by Birdy](https://open.spotify.com/track/4RL77hMWUq35NYnPLXBpih?si=W5NzSCRfTp2LIf4vZHiETg)


	4. Four

The next day Harry overslept and was in such a hurry, he almost poured whiskey in his to-go tea cup and completely missed the opportunity to grill Niall about his date. They managed to make plans for later via text with the promise of discussing their evenings and then some. Harry suggested inviting the others since, let’s face it, he wanted Louis there. However, Niall told him that he spoke to Liam in the morning and both he and Zayn were leaving for a tattoo convention in Germany, or perhaps Hungary – not that it really mattered where they went and couldn’t make it.

So Friday night, Harry and Niall sat at the bar in _Red Light_ alone. 

And lucky for Harry, although was it luck? Nick was on his shift ogling from afar, looking but not actually speaking with the exception of the occasional “hi” and “you lads alright?”. Other than that, it was radio silence.

Which was a relief and _technically_ luck.

Niall told Harry about his date with Yasmin. He took her to see a play at a local theatre company – Niall managed to convince his co-worker Ed to exchange his theatre tickets for Niall’s vouchers for massages at this trendy spa-centre because a couple’s spa day was probably too forward for a first date. 

After the play, Niall invited Yasmin for a glass of wine and then accompanied her home, something he'd never done before. Harry was really happy for Niall. He hadn't seen him take such a genuine interest in anyone since college.

They moved on to discussing Niall’s birthday party next week – Niall wanted to go to this club _, Indigo Caves._ Harry never heard about it, so it had to be quite a new place. Niall enthusiastically described that the place had three floors, which all went under the ground, the main floor had a karaoke bar while the two lower floors had music of different genres and dancing. 

Harry immediately thought of Louis shaking his bottom. The chills were instant.

Niall suggested that it would be better to have the party on Saturday to give them Sunday as a day to rest and recover. He also managed to convince Harry to cook brunch as his birthday gift and to cure Niall’s impending hangover. Harry could only laugh and agreed wholeheartedly. 

They left the bar shortly after since Niall had a full day ahead of him with his girlfriend. Or was she his girlfriend? That was a question for another day.

In the end, Harry found himself alone on a Saturday. How lame. 

Niall left early for breakfast with Yasmin, the guys from upstairs were away in Germany (or Hungary, Harry still wasn’t sure), and Gemma went back home to visit their mother which sort of irritated Harry because he would have gone with her without hesitation. He hasn’t been home in quite a bit and well, maybe he needed the time to speak to both of them about _man_ y things including–

Louis.

He spent all morning rolling over in bed and re-reading Murakami’s _Norwegian Wood_ , picking up his mobile phone in hopes of finding a text message but always coming up empty handed. It was sad actually.

After enjoying a cup of Yorkshire tea, his new favourite morning _pick me up_ , he wandered around the apartment thinking what he should do first. Possibly clean? Maybe practice that new song? Do online shopping? 

Cook a massive meal for one?

Although, cooking for one was never his pastime. Harry enjoyed sharing and hosting guests, maybe showing off a bit too. And it didn’t hurt, right? That was where his confidence was, in the kitchen. 

But who can he share his talents with–

“Louis!” He ran to his bedroom to retrieve his phone – he could use the baking lessons as an excuse – and sent a quick text to Louis.

**_\-- I’m in the mood for some muffins. Wanna come over? I’ll teach you!_ **

Rather than text back, Louis called him!? Harry fumbled with the phone, nearly dropped it on the hardwood, “Oh my God!” He swiftly answered, his tone unsure, “H-hello?”

“Hi! Just got your message."

“Nice,” he said, his tone calm and collected even though on the inside he was a jumbled mess. “What will it be then?” _Please say yes!_

“I’ve just finished with one of my students a few minutes ago. I can be at yours’ in a half hour?”

Yes!

Yes!

Yes!

His cheeks reddened, “That’s great, Louis. I’m looking forward to it!”

“Should I bring anything over?” Louis asked.

He grinned and he was not sure why, “Just you.” He bit his tongue. _Really!?_

But Louis seemed unfazed, “Cool, see you then.”

“Bye, Lou,” Harry said cheerfully and nearly collapsed the moment they hung up. “He’s coming over!” He practically squealed but immediately pinched himself because- _chill out_.

Harry showered quickly and decided to wear sweatpants and a white graphic t-shirt that was on top of the pile in his drawer. He had to keep it casual because they’re _just friends_.

Just lads doing lad things.

He set out the ingredients on the counter, greased the muffin pans, pre-measured the milk, and was about to put in the eggs when the doorbell chimed. 

Harry nearly dropped the carton on the floor, “Ah, shoot!” he recovered, slapped a hand over his mouth from the grotesque noise he made. “Stop overreacting!” He scolded and placed the eggs down before he destroyed them.

He ran a hand through his partially damp hair and made his way to the door, swung it open to reveal a bright eyed, very soft and handsome– “Louis.” His voice was all wrong, too endeared maybe? But wrong.

Louis’ expression was that of intrigue, confusion too. He raised an eyebrow, “Interesting shirt choice, I must say. Did you really invite me for muffins or was it some secret code for casual sex? If so, I should have worn something else, huh.”

Harry peered down, _Oh, got it._ He was standing there wearing a shirt from his ‘out and proud’ collection, his favourite Keith Haring t-shirt with a picture of two dudes jerking each other off. 

“No, just for the muffins,” _although I like your idea,_ “and we should all practice safe sex you know,” he shrugged.

Louis chuckled, “Absolutely.”

Harry was curious, “What would you have worn–”

“Will you let me in?” Louis shifted his weight.

He shook his head, “Oh! Of course, c’mon in.” He couldn’t help but watch the way Louis swung his hips as he walked. It was the devil in disguise. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I can change.” He said to maybe distract his thoughts.

“I’m just messing with you,” Louis glanced over his shoulder. “It’s an important message. And if anyone can pull it off, it’s you.” he grinned. “Can you imagine me, Z or Liam wearing this?”

His brow furrowed, “Why not?"

But Louis just shrugged, “So, the muffins?”

What did that mean?

Louis wasn’t much help in the kitchen, rather opposite. He ate half of the raspberries in an unguarded moment before Harry could even crack open all the eggs. Harry had to replace them with frozen ones. No big deal. 

Louis tried his best with following Harry’s instruction to not to overmix the batter even though it was nearly impossible to mess up. He was gently mixing with the whisk, incorporating the ingredients. Harry knew he couldn’t really ruin it as muffins were one of the easiest recipes. 

After they spooned the mixture into the prepared pans, set the timer and were about to begin cleaning up, Harry reached for the bowl to wash.

Louis gripped his wrist, “What are you doing?” 

Harry was frozen in place, “Uhm, cleaning?”

Louis pointed to the bowl, “That’s the best part, silly!”

Harry looked between the bowl and Louis, a thought coming to mind eventually, “So wait–"

Louis’ smile was innocent, unassuming, “I’m a bowl licker?” 

Harry practically choked on his tongue, Louis’ confession took his breath away. Damn you lazy enunciation! “I thought–”

“Never assume, Harold,” Louis took the bowl from Harry’s grasp. “Wanna taste it?” he asked Harry. Here he was again with his dirty thoughts. 

When the muffins were baked, they made tea (not spiked because who knows what Harry would say or worse, _do_ ) and started watching _Friends_. Louis said he didn’t care what season they started from, he’s seen every episode and was an avid fan. 

But they barely paid the show any mind. 

They spoke for most of the afternoon about their time at Uni, how they both ended up working part-time at a coffee shop, discussed movies, favourite books, what country they would both like to visit, someday. 

“I’d love to see Rome,” Harry said, found Louis’ irises and held his gaze steady. “I heard the Sistine Chapel is–” he lost his train of thought as he began to really take in Louis’ eyes.

Wow.

“Is what?” Louis waved a hand in front of Harry’s face.

He flinched, “Wait what?” He glanced away instantly, masked his flushed cheeks.

“You said the _Sistine Chapel is_. Is what?” he asked. “Dirty? Busy?”

“No,” he rushed out, “no I meant to say,” _the loveliest shade of blue,_ “ _gorgeous_. It’s gorgeous.” He bit his tongue.

“Oh yeah well, Michelangelo was a talented dude.”

He swiped his sweaty brow, “Yup. Very.” Although no artist could come close to replicating the depths of Louis’ eyes or their perfection. 

“I’d like to see Paris,” Louis shared.

“I’ve been there with my mum and Gemma after I graduated high school,” Harry began. “I would like to go back one day when I find love.”

“Why love?”

He grinned, “It’s a great place to take someone on a date, impress them really.”

“Oh,” Louis looked lost in thought. “But what if you never find it?”

His entire body tensed, “Then I guess I’ll never go back.”

After Louis’ stomach rumbled, they decided to go out for a quick dinner, then went for a walk through the park which Louis regretted that there were almost no stars to see. He was actually rather distraught, and it tugged at Harry’s heartstrings, made him realize how sentimental Louis was.

This revealed a lot of Louis’ character, how precious and tender he could be. He’s delightful to be around and talk to, a wonderful person in general. Yeah, he could be cheeky occasionally, but Harry enjoyed it. It gave Louis substance, depth.

Harry had to admit he was addicted.

When they went back to Harry’s place, Louis borrowed a guitar and played for a bit. The songs seemed rather melancholy, their chords in a minor key and just sad in general. Louis played beautifully anyway, he didn’t sing, just hummed occasionally which added to the mood.

Harry couldn’t identify any of them – well, what a testament to his idea of him knowing music well. Shit. One might have been _‘People Ain’t No Good_ ’ but Harry really wasn’t sure, so he kept quiet and listened. 

“Would you like some wine, Lou?” Harry asked eventually.

“Yeah, why not,” Louis said from the sofa. “But warning, it may make me drowsy.” 

Harry quickly took him in, admired the simplicity of Louis’ outfit, and the endearing sweater paws. He wanted to touch the softness of Louis’ white jumper, maybe sneak a feel of his stubbled cheek or brush off the fringe resting gently on Louis’ forehead, feel the stiff denim of his jeans beneath his palm. Harry just wanted to _touch_ and he didn’t care where. He wanted to feel the delicateness beneath his fingertips.

“You can crash here then,” Harry said with as much nonchalance as he was able. “I won’t kick you out.” _Ever_. “And here’s the last of the muffins. Take it.” Harry offered.

“You’re gonna cost me a few extra pounds, I see,” Louis giggled and reached for the muffin anyways. 

Harry opened the bottle of red wine, poured two glasses and popped in _Goodfellas_. 

“Is this the one with the horse’s head?” Louis asked as he took a gulp of wine.

“That’s _The Godfather_ ,” Harry corrected and sat down next to him, left just enough room to show he was interested but still kept his distance just in case.

Louis' lips formed an ‘O’ shape and Harry almost leaned in and kissed him in a moment of weakness, “Oh, got it.” 

Sometime during the second glass of wine, Harry noticed Louis was shivering beneath his hooded sweatshirt. What he would give to hold him close, keep Louis warm in his own arms. But that was wishful thinking.

He got up from the couch and brought over two hand-knitted blankets his mother stitched. Louis chose the teal one – Harry’s. The thought of it smelling like Louis was reason enough for him to allow him to take it. So he just sat back beside Louis and covered himself up with the red one that belonged to Niall. 

Louis appreciated how comfy and warming it was and snuggled into the material. It was so adorable, Harry nearly melted into a puddle, “Thank you.”

Harry sighed, “You’re welcome, Lou.”

He wondered if he had seen any TV blankets at Louis’ place—but Louis didn’t have a telly, so maybe he didn’t have a dedicated TV blanket either? 

Harry might have to change that.

Louis fell asleep before the film ended, so Harry turned it off and decided to clean up the kitchen. Niall returned home shortly after, gushed over his night with Yasmin, and of course questioned what could potentially be happening between him and Louis.

“Nothing, Niall. We’re just hanging out,” Harry whispered regretfully, gazed longingly at a sleeping Louis wrapped in his blanket. He knew he wasn’t convincing enough, but Niall was preoccupied with his night, didn't harp on the lack of response Harry offered or his fidgeting. Niall knew he was a shit liar, most times he would have called him out.

But it seems he got off the hook this time.

The work week before Niall’s party flew by. Niall was in dating mode – slowly making progress with the “girl of his fookin’ dreams” and Harry was looking forward to finally meeting her – the girl who Niall finally kissed on Thursday, the girl who made Niall all weak in the knees.

Usually it was Harry who fell quickly for someone. Niall mostly wasn’t interested in a serious relationship. Most of the time, he was content with short romances with nice girls, who over time began to bore him, so he let them go. This Yas girl seemed different. For starters, it was Niall who was pining over her, not the other way around. 

Harry spent two nights with the boys upstairs this week. First time was on Tuesday – a movie night. They watched _Joker_ and had Chinese take-away for dinner. Harry mentioned to them that Niall would love to own this movie on blu-ray. They were grateful for the tip, because gifts for friends were always a tricky business.

Wednesday was pizza, beer and Netflix. And since it was only Liam and Zayn, Harry took advantage and asked about Louis.

But Liam called him out, “Do you like him?”

“Define _like_ ,” Harry prolonged the inevitable.

“Oh, so you _do_ ,” Liam said matter of fact. “Are you gonna ask him out?”

He baulked, “Maybe? I mean, I’m not sure yet about, you know, how _he_ feels. I don’t want to jeopardize our friendship.”

“Bullshit, Harry. I think you would be great together,” Liam encouraged.

“Maybe,” Zayn whispered. Harry couldn’t hide his horror. _Maybe!?_ “Don’t look at me like that,” Zayn continued, turned to his boyfriend. “When was the last time Lou dated someone?”

“I don’t know. A while ago?” Liam asked. “That’s why I think this is a great idea. Get him back in the game!”

Liam’s enthusiasm was encouraging but it was what Zayn had to say that kept Harry’s attention.

Zayn looked to him with downturned lips, “That’s why I think it might not be the best of ideas. Look, Harry, I’m not trying to discourage you from anything, just, Louis _doesn’t_ date. Not. Ever. I don’t want you to be disappointed when he says no.”

“Why doesn’t he date?” Harry rushed out. 

He was confused. If Louis hasn’t dated in _ages_ , did that mean he was more into casual hook-ups? In that case, Harry probably already missed his chance. Maybe he should have kissed him on Saturday! But Harry didn’t even know how old Louis was – they were in getting know each other phase. Was there a chance he was a virgin? Or maybe sworn celibacy?

_But bowl licker!?_

“He could be waiting for someone worth it, maybe?” Liam guessed. “It’s not something we usually talk about.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Zayn said apologetically. “You have our blessing anyway. Do what you feel is right.”

Liam’s eyes brightened, “Double dates, Zaynie!! I can already picture it.” 

But Zayn’s expression revealed his unease and Harry’s answer. 

He knew he would probably never ask Louis out on a date.

At the birthday party Niall and Harry arrived fashionably late. Everyone seemed to be there. University friends, work colleagues, childhood friends, Niall’s golf mates, Liam, Zayn, Louis and their circle of people from _Red Ligh_ t, some of them Harry knew he met before, but he wasn’t sure exactly where. 

Everyone greeted Niall and collectively wished him the best for his 27th birthday, swallowed him into a group hug and then he was off to celebrate. Harry didn't even have time to look around before a dark-haired girl fell around his neck, kissed him on the cheek, and enveloped him into a tight hug. Harry held her around her waist and mumbled in her ear how happy he was to see her.

“Gems, let’s go get drinks, we'll find Niall later,” Harry took her hand and pulled her towards the bar where Louis, Zayn and Liam were with drinks already in their hands.

“Guys, let me introduce you to Gemma, my sister,” Harry proudly announced. 

“I can see the family resemblance. Lovely to meet you. I’ve already heard a lot ‘bout you,” Louis said. 

“Wait a minute. Harry, you already managed to slander me in front of your new friends? Bad move, baby brother, bad move.”

“Gems, I’d _never_ do such a thing,” Harry mocked his hurt because yeah– he totally would!

“Well, let me guess who is who then.” Gemma smiled. “You two are clearly a couple, so you must be Liam, the lawyer?” she pointed to a grinning Liam. “That makes you – Zayn, right? The one immune to my brother’s _amazing_ flirting game. You’ve dodged the bullet, my dear.” Gemma grinned.

“Shut up, sis!”

“Oh, I love you already,” Louis chuckled.

“And, you are Louis then, my new best friend and ally in keeping H on his toes!”

“Pleased to meet you!” 

Niall’s party was a blast. They danced the night away, drank the night away as well. Niall was indestructible, his Irish genes manifested themselves – it was really miraculous how he was able not only to stand straight but also be his charming self. 

Niall introduced Yasmin to his closest friends. And to be honest, Harry really liked her. She wasn’t clingy, she dealt with not being Niall’s only focus at the party really well. Yas wasn’t sulking when Niall talked to someone else. She easily engaged in conversation with Harry and the others. She was smart, funny, beautiful and she seemed to understand how important friends were to Niall and she actually made an effort to get to know at least some of them. 

Harry didn’t want Niall to get involved with _Chloe 2.0_. Chloe was – well, Niall’s femme fatale one could say. Her only problem was that she turned into a jealous, intolerant shrew (what a polite way to describe that bitch) who sucked all the happiness from him. So, Harry was looking out for him – not wanting to put heartbroken Niall back together again. 

They left the club after 3 am. Liam, Zayn and Louis took one cab. Zayn was already half asleep when they were still in the club singing karaoke. But the guys managed to push his grumpy arse into the vehicle without any problems.

Harry, Gemma, and Niall with Yasmin took another – Harry sat next to the driver, while Gemma won a seat next to the ‘happy couple’. They left her plenty of room because Yas was practically sitting on Niall’s lap. They giggled like teenagers and stole kisses – you know here and there – they really tried to behave since they weren’t alone. 

Tried being the operative word.

When they finally got to the apartment, Gemma immediately followed Harry to his room and closed the door, “Can I stay here with you, Harry?”

“Sure, but don’t you wanna take the couch in the living room?" Harry wondered. “It’s comfortable...”

“C’mon, H, didn’t you notice your roomie and his new girlfriend in the car? I don’t want the first row to _that_ show,” she grimaced.

Harry chuckled, “I see, so, slumber party?”

“We can share some secrets in the dark, like when we were kids,” Gemma said and took some t-shirt from Harry’s closet. 

After they refreshed themselves and brushed their teeth, they were lying in Harry’s king sized bed, both on their half, staring at the ceiling.

Gemma was first to break the silence, “The flat looks great, Harry.”

“Thanks. I’m gonna give you a proper tour tomorrow.”

“I think he likes you, H,” she said randomly.

His fingers gripped the bedding because he knew what she meant but Zayn’s words haunted him, “I think, flats don’t feel these kinds of things for their inhabitants, Gem.”

“I meant Louis,” she clarified.

_Louis doesn’t date._

“Oh, really?” he sounded as unsure as he felt. “Why? Did he tell you anything about me?”

“No, I’m your big sister, he won’t come to me to pry. Don’t be stupid,” she said. “He just– he was relaxed around you, stole glances when you weren’t paying attention, smiled fondly. It was adorable, really.” She giggled. “And when he sang that song, you know, the second one, I had a feeling he sang it _just_ for you. It was very suggestive.”

“You know, but the song is pretty naughty by default–” Harry fell silent with the memory of Louis singing those lyrics. His breathy voice trapped in his brain.

_If you like your coffee hot._

_Let me be your coffee pot._

_You call the shots, babe._

_I just wanna be yours_

He had planned to think about this with his hand around himself, but that just felt very inappropriate with his sister lying beside him. 

“I dunno. I don’t wanna think about it,” he lied. He wanted to drown in Louis’ voice whispering how he _wanted to be his vacuum cleaner and breathing in his dust._ No, he couldn’t think about it. He had such a dirty mind. And getting a hard on from a karaoke song with his sister in his bed? Classy. At least, she couldn’t see him. 

“Why? I thought you liked him too.”

He hesitated before answering because he did, a lot, maybe too much and it just didn't seem fair, “Well, Zayn and Liam told me that Lou doesn’t do relationships. And they’ve known him for a long time. I trust what they have to say.”

“So, you call him Lou? I see,” she called him out. Harry’s sister was the devil incarnate. “So, convince him to start dating you because I’m telling you, something is there."

He was doubtful, he had his concerns, he was _worried_ he’d lose what they had already and to not even have Louis’ friendship would hurt him too much. So for now, he would keep things cordial and nonsexual. He was placing himself in the friend zone. Ouch.

“Whatever, stop with your meddling,” he glanced over at his sister even though he couldn’t see her, “Tell me when Matt is coming back from New York. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

She sighed, “He isn’t coming back, Harry.”

His mouth popped open, “What?”

“Matt’s staying. There. They offered him a permanent job and–”

Harry sat up, gripped his curls, “I’m gonna kill him, Gemma, really, I’m gonna fucking rip his head off, no I’m gonna rip his nutts off.” He was fuming! How dared this poor excuse of a man hurt his sister!?

She reached over, touched his arm gently, “No, Harry, we talked it through. Matt, he wanted me to move to New York for him, said he loved me, that he can provide for both of us. Or I can get a job if I wanted. I just don’t wanna be in New York, alone, without a job, without you, Harry, without mum, friends. I couldn’t do it. We–,” she sniffles, “we broke up last week. That’s why I haven’t told you I was going home for the weekend. I needed mum just for myself.” 

He pulled her into a tight hug, “Gems, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’m here for you, you know? I love you.”

“I know, I love you too, Harry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Louis singing [I Wanna Be Yours](https://open.spotify.com/track/5XeFesFbtLpXzIVDNQP22n?si=VBR6WBlOTxGUrOA5xzuO8A) by Artic Monkeys is my wet dream, so bear with me. I had to write it in. Sorry, not sorry :-D


	5. Five

Harry stirred awake around ten in the morning with an intense hangover. And now he wondered why he had agreed to cook– Oh right, Niall’s birthday wish. _Got it_. 

He dragged himself out of bed, careful to not disturb Gemma and took a quick shower. By the time he ventured out towards the kitchen, he found Yasmin already in the living room.

“Good morning,” she greeted him.

“Morning,” he scratched at his damp head. "Why are you up so early?” 

She shrugged, “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh, not Niall’s fault I hope?”

Yasmin laughed, “Not that this is any of your business, but nothing happened. Yet.”

“Well– I meant,” Harry held his hands out in mock surrender, “never mind. Wanna help me with breakfast?”

“Sure, what’s on the menu?”

“Niall wants full English and I want to make some pie. I’m thinking about plum tarts with honey.”

They started with the tarts, then continued on with the rest of the meal from there. They made small talk, discussed the party and briefly about their jobs, kept their voices to a minimum until Gemma and Niall joined them a little later. Harry welcomed the distraction of his company while he was working on Niall’s birthday wish.

Half past eleven everything was ready so Harry texted Louis they were about to start and to hurry because the last one to the table didn’t have a seat. Although Harry wanted to insist that Louis could sit on his lap, but he kept that to himself. Liam and Louis came down about two minutes later with one extra chair, to Harry’s dismay, for Zayn who was still in the shower. 

Harry held up a mug of spiked tea, “Happy birthday, Ni. Bon appétit, everyone!” 

“Thanks, mate, really,” Niall grinned, reaching for some extra bacon. 

“Yas helped me actually,” Harry admitted. 

“What a woman! Sexy and can cook. Aren’t I lucky?” Niall kissed Yasmin on the cheek.

Zayn walked in about ten minutes later and sat down next to Liam, who poured him coffee, “Are we doing presents yet?” he asked. 

Niall begged to eat first for a few reasons, one being to stave off this hangover. When they finished, Niall opened up his presents, a bottle of 12-year-old Connemara and the movie _Joker_ from the guys and a tailormade leather traveller’s notebook with NJH embossed on the cover from Gemma and Harry. Harry spent about two hours in the store – comparing skins, paper, accessories – he called Gemma about three times for advice. Harry always liked to give thoughtful gifts. He enjoyed the process from idea to realization, and of course, the reaction from the recipient. Hard work paid off.

Yasmin said she had a present ready at home, then she whispered something in Niall’s ear. Well, whatever it was – they excused themselves shortly after to continue with the ‘celebration’. _Smooth_.

“Well, with Niall gone, let’s have some plum tarts,” Harry announced, “we should have plenty to go around now.”

“Aww, Harry did you make those just for me?” Gemma asked.

“Maybe,” he grinned.

“You know, who cares about Matt and New York when you can stuff your belly with plum tarts,” she stood up from her chair and hugged Harry from behind, placing a kiss on top of his head. “Thanks, bro.”

“What’s up with New York?” Liam questioned.

“To be honest nothing anymore. My _ex-_ boyfriend permanently relocated there. So we broke it off after six years. And Harry here,” she smacked him playfully on the back, “is babying me with plum tarts because he knows I love them.”

“Ouch, are you okay? Six years is a long time,” Liam said.

“It’s been complicated for the last six month. I’ll be fine,” Gemma insisted, but Harry knew better. They were all expecting an engagement not a break up. But he kept his mouth shut.

Liam and Zayn confided that they had been dating for six years as well and couldn’t imagine one of them moving so far. 

“I’d probably drop everything and move,” Zayn admitted. 

Liam snorted, “And leave your shop, bunny? I don’t think so.”

His boyfriend grinned, “That’s why you would never leave me!”

Then everyone started exchanging funny stories from their dating history. 

It turned out that Zayn used to date girls until he met Liam at a party. And Liam used to date a guy whose name was also Liam. 

Harry could only think how confusing that probably was especially in _bed_. 

Gemma shared a story about how Harry used to date this bloke Nate, a relationship Harry thought would last but it turned out, the moment they moved in together, he knew it was doomed. He literally unpacked his belongings only to repack the same day.

“Gems, do you remember when Niall was dating Abi?” Harry began to laugh.

“You mean how he was dating Abi and Ava?” 

“Oh, that’s the worst dating story ever. Shame Niall isn’t here because he can tell the story better than me.” 

“He was dating two girls at once?” Louis asked, sincerely shocked. 

Harry started at the sound of Louis’ voice. It seemed up until that moment, he was silent. Zayn wasn’t kidding, Louis didn’t date.

“Well yeah, sorta,” Harry said. “But in his defence, he didn’t know. Abi and Ava were identical twins. They shared him like a teddy bear for four months,” Harry continued. “ _Four_ months, can you believe it!?”

“We were buying some booze for a New Year’s Eve party and we ran into them in the store. Niall was so perplexed he couldn’t even speak,” Gemma finished.

“How is that even possible? He couldn’t tell?” Zayn asked.

“None of us could,” Gemma admitted. “It was insane. They went both by Abi, pretended they were one and took turns with him.”

“That’s gross,” Liam grimaced. “Sharing the same person as your sibling?”

Harry shook his head, “Niall ended it after the party. After he had a threesome with them. He said he was so confused which one was which and who he fucked before. He couldn’t get over it.”

**_\--Ni? Will you and Yas join us for dinner? You can choose the restaurant since it’s your birthday._ **

_\--Always hungry. Mex good? Los Amores at 7_

**_\--Sure. See you there._ **

It was a good idea to let Niall decide where to go for dinner instead of arguing whether to have Chinese or Italian. Niall talked over several rounds of margaritas about how this was the best birthday ever. Yasmin took him for a walk around her favourite places in London. She later introduced him to her friends, with whom they went on an escape game, which, according to Niall, was a good time. 

After ten o’clock they all parted ways. Yasmin invited Niall over to her place so she could give him _another gift_ , the guys went home, again much to Harry’s dismay because he wanted to spend more time with Louis, and Gemma too was heading home. He immediately invited himself along for the walk.

Gemma was glad she had a busy weekend with Harry, she missed him. She needed to talk and get all the emotions out of her. She had put on a heroic face, but Harry knew she was deeply hurt by the breakup with Matthew. It wasn’t easy for her. But she was hopeful that she would experience it again – something like Niall and Yasmin had – excitement, sexual tension, fleeting touches, young love.

“It’s out there, Harry. I know it. Love is waiting for me. And for you too,” Gemma said thoughtfully.

“And I thought I was the sappy one, sis,” he laughed at her optimism. “I’m not worried about you, Gems. You’re the best girl out here. It’s me who’s always choosing to fall in love with someone incompatible.”

Or not available.

Or someone who chose not to date.

“I think Louis compliments you very well actually... He even laughed at your awful jokes,” she looked at him, “when did you become so anxious? He likes you.”

“He likes me as a _friend_ and that’s fine,” even though that fact sounded bitter on his tongue. “We don’t know each other well enough anyway to be discussing feelings.”

“You’re like two peas in a pod,” she grinned.

Harry rolled his eyes, “Can you make it sound more cliché?”

“Give it some time, Harry. Things don’t always happen overnight.”

“You mean like with you and Matthew? Or Niall and Yasmin? Liam and Zayn? Everyone except me–”

“And whose love story haven’t we heard yet, huh?” Gemma questioned.

Harry paused, “Louis’?”

“Exactly,” she confirmed. “He didn’t say anything about any of his relationships. I wanted to ask him but maybe he had a bad experience or didn’t want to divulge his past. Maybe he likes to take things _slow_. We don’t know.” But she didn't stop there. “Then there’s you. You pick your boys after several drinks in a bar, you look for how they look and then you wonder why you don’t have anything in common with them. That was the case with – what was his name _, smug face-fuck face_?”

He frowned at the nickname, “Gemma! I told you that in confidence, you can’t use it against me. His name was Ben and don’t ever call him that again.”

“But he had a smug face and he let you–” 

He covered his ears, “Shut it!”

When Harry returned home that night, he was surprised to meet Louis in the lobby. Surprised and very happy.

Very, very happy indeed.

He couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear, “Hi. Going home?”

Louis waved, “Liam was ready to snog Zayn, so I quietly excused myself.”

“Why not join in?” Harry quipped.

“That would be awkward,” Louis snorted.

“Joking!” Harry recovered. “Anyway, wanna come in for a cuppa? Niall’s probably still with his girlfriend.” 

“Thanks, but I’m knackered,” Harry quickly masked his frown, “but we can grab some during the week. I’m often at _John Doe’s and Deer_ – it’s two blocks away from my flat."

“Sounds great, I’ll text you?” he asked.

Louis nodded, “Yeah, sure. Looking forward to it.” He looked up at Harry with wide eyes and a crooked smile. “G’night, Harry.”

What Harry would give to touch, “Night, Lou.” He watched Louis walk away, watched the way his legs carried him, maybe witnessed him look back at Harry with a slight grin.

Monday was so busy Harry didn’t have enough time to get lunch. He only had a small bowl of fruit for breakfast, so he decided to bring home Chinese take-away as a surprise for Niall.

But unfortunately, when he arrived home, Niall wasn’t alone. Harry shut the door as fast he had opened them before. Oh, he was lucky-lucky that he hadn’t come later. He just heard them both laughing. So he just yelled: “I’m going upstairs.” and trudged upstairs to Liam and Zayn’s. 

Zayn answered the door right after first knock, “Come on in, Harry. Liam should be home any minute.”

Harry placed two large bags of food on the table, “Great, how was your day?”

“Same old, had lunch with Louis, did some retouching and then some sketching.”

Harry was curious, “Is he coming?”

Zayn shook his head, “Nope. He had a staff meeting at school and usually goes out for a drink after with his colleagues.”

Harry managed to hide his jealousy, somehow.

Liam came home shortly after and within an hour they were so full they could barely move from the couch and were mindlessly watching a documentary about water pollution.

And of course, Harry’s mind wandered into dangerous territory. But he had to be realistic, so he texted his _friend_ because if he wanted to get to know Louis, he had to _hang out_ with him.

**_\-- Hi, Lou. I’m at Zayn’s. Was hoping to see you here..._ **

_\-- Miss me, Curly?_

**_\-- No._ **

_\-- You’re an open book, Harry. Try again_

**_\-- Yes._ **

_\-- That’s what I thought_

**_\-- Oh shush! I was going to ask if you wanted to meet me at that coffee spot of yours. But now I_** **_’m not so sure._ **

_\-- More lies?_

_**\-- Never.**_

_\-- Let’s meet tomorrow, at 4_

**_\-- Who says I want to?_ **

_\-- See you there_

The next day, Harry arrived at _John Doe’s and Deer_ before Louis giving him ample time to find the perfect place for them to sit. It needed to be in the back, but not too far away from everyone else, close to civilization but out of earshot.

“Ah-ha!” He found the table in the corner facing the back window, “Perfect.” He sauntered over and sat down.

But a server, Meghan, told him that particular table was already reserved, “I’m so sorry, sir. I forgot to put the sign on the table.”

“Oh! No worries. I’ll just–”

“Keeping my seat warm?” Louis approached, gave Meghan a quick side hug, “Hey.”

It turned out, since Louis was a beloved regular, the staff saved this table just for him. They would even make customers move if they tried to claim it.

Harry couldn’t blame them. Louis was literal sunshine and he deserved the best treatment. And that meant the best table in the _best_ café. 

And Harry knew without asking why Louis chose this table. It was secluded, quieter here than beside the counter. It was the perfect spot, really, not on the route to the toilets, not too far from large windows so it was well lit with natural light. 

Louis sat down beside Harry. And Harry just stared at him completely engulfed in his beauty. Louis looked impeccable in his grey knitted jumper and black jeans. His fringe was delicately swept across his forehead as usual, soft and inviting. It looked windblown but Harry knew this was intentional and oh so endearing. 

And damn it, he wanted to touch so badly, run his fingers through the short tresses, savour, _memorize_ , find any excuse to be close. Harry wanted to lose himself in Louis’ being, get to know the man on a personal level. He could only pray the feeling was mutual.

They ordered two large cappuccinos and spent the rest of the day together and had a great time. 

Louis was one of the funniest people Harry knew, sorry Niall. Louis was sassy, sarcastic, a bit cheeky at times but he was so much more. He was warm, tender, wore his heart on his sleeve and didn’t shy away from expressing his emotion. He was fun, kind, supportive and listened to Harry’s slow drawl with patience. It was refreshing. They had similar taste in movies, Louis introduced Harry to some new music, and they could essentially discuss anything and everything. It was a beautiful, easy friendship.

Harry often visited _John Doe’s and Deer_ after that, went there to brainstorm new ideas or to answer work emails. Sometimes they both quietly worked beside each other. Harry was even granted the same privilege to sit at Louis' table.

Some nights were spent at Louis’ flat where they played guitar or watched shows on Louis’ laptop. Louis played piano when Harry was anxious about work or anything that could potentially cause him stress. And occasionally they played together, keeping up with their lessons including _baking_ ones.

Harry tried to teach Louis some easy recipes, but it usually ended with Harry cooking for both of them which he never seemed to mind anyway.

By the end of September, they were texting each other on a daily basis. Harry sent Louis some lame jokes and memes while Louis often sent him songs he recorded on his phone. In some he sang and played guitar, in others it was just instrumentals. Harry liked when he played the piano for him, he loved watching him do so even more – the way Louis gracefully moved his body, how his fingers danced over the keys. 

Their guitar sessions continued flawlessly as well, Harry got more confident and could now sing with Louis in the room. It was encouraging and he could thank _his friend_ for that. 

Yeah friend.

At least he tried to convince himself he saw Louis as a friend. Although he may not have a choice.

_\-- Harry!!!_

**_\-- Hi Ni, what’s up? Are you free, wanna grab some lunch?_ **

_\-- I can’t! I’ve got work up to my eyeballs. But! I’ve got an excellent idea_

**_\-- Doubt that._ **

_\--Ur no fun, mate_

**_\-- Take that back. Or I’m not participating in your “idea”._ **

_\-- Scafell Pike!_

**_\--_ _You_ ** _**’re kidding, right?** _

_\-- Don’t be lazy, Styles. Just me and you_

**_\--Why?_ **

_\-- We deserve some together time, honey_

Harry dialled Niall’s number after that. It turned out that one of his clients offered him a free stay in his newly renovated hotel. And also, that Yasmin had planned a weekend away in Copenhagen with her friends. Niall was very persuasive when he explained that it hasn’t been just the two of them for a long time. They needed that. And maybe, Niall was right. They were often somewhere with the guys, Yasmin was around, or Niall was at her flat. 

Or Harry was with Louis. 

When was the last time they had a beer – just the two of them?

Niall, being an ace in his field, sold this crazy idea to Harry without the blink of an eye and they left London early Friday afternoon as a result. 

Niall drove first and after they stopped to have dinner, a burger, fries and two beers (for Niall) Harry took his turn behind the wheel. Niall passed out almost instantly which left Harry to his lonesome. He complained to Louis over a text and two minutes later he received a link to a Spotify playlist Louis made for him so he wouldn’t fall asleep. 

**_\-- Thanks Lou_ **

_\-- Don_ ’ _t have too much fun_

_\-- kidding_

They arrived at the hotel around eleven and went straight to bed. God, Harry was tired. 

The trip up from Langdale was way too long so they got up very early to make most of the day. They had a quick breakfast and hit the trail. The route they planned was a little over twenty kilometres. It was a tough hike, but they were well equipped for hard terrain. They wanted to achieve three other peaks along the way. The views should have been breath taking, maybe they were, but the October weather wasn’t on their side. After reaching Scafell, rain started pouring and visibility was getting worse. They decided for the shortest trail back to avoid any injury. 

They returned to the hotel completely soaked, cold and exhausted. Niall called first dibs on the shower meanwhile Harry sent his post-hike selfie to Louis. And he was grinning from ear to ear like a fool considering the state of his hair and clothing.

_\-- So you survived?_

**_\-- Wanker._ **

_\-- Yeah, you look like one. All wet and I’m not even there?_

**_\-- Hate you._ **

_\-- Blah, blah. How was it?_

**_\-- Satisfying. I know how to please myself, you know._ **

_\-- Knew it, you bloody wanker. Haha. Glad you’ve made it back in one piece. I would miss you dearly_

**_\-- You better!_ **

**_\-- Anyway, Niall says hi. I’m off to shower._ **

_\-- Enjoy_

After a quick nap after an exhausting hike they had some dinner, Harry paired it with wine, Niall with beer. They talked about work for a while, but the conversation quickly turned to the topic of _relationships_ which Harry was hesitant to discuss considering his predicament.

But Niall was very fond of Yasmin. She was a great girlfriend for someone like him. They spent a lot of time together, but at the same time they both had an understanding for each other’s friends and personal space. The balance worked well for them.

Niall subtly hinted that their sex life was more than satisfying but Harry didn’t want to know specifics, just as he himself never put into the words details of his own sexual adventures. Sometimes he joked about it with Niall, but despite years of friendship, they had some boundaries in this area. 

He had his confidante in his sister. It might seem strange to some that siblings shared this information, but Gemma was understanding. She was the first person Harry came out to. She was always supportive and listened to his complaints about pretty boys, about love, about sex, really about _anything_. 

“I need to call Gemma tomorrow to see how she’s doing. I’m a bit worried about her,” Harry said, his concern evident.

“Funny you say that,” Niall glanced at him, his suspicion palpable.

Harry frowned, “What? What do you mean?” 

“I know you missed your weekly call with her last Sunday.”

“I didn’t, we spoke,” he said with little confidence.

“I met her this week over lunch and she told me, you didn’t call. Trust me, she is the one worried about how her baby brother is doing,” Niall informed.

“Maybe I forgot? I can’t remember what I ate for breakfast, never mind what I did last Sunday. _I’m_ fine, she’s the one dealing with a breakup.”

“If you say so,” Niall’s smirk spoke volumes.

Harry was confused, “Spill it.”

“You were busy, that’s normal. Forget I said anything. We don’t have to talk about it if you’re not _ready_.” 

“Talk about _what_ though?”

“About Louis,” Niall deadpanned.

Harry sipped at his wine, kept his thoughts to himself. He was a complete mess on the inside, but Niall didn’t have to know that. No one did.

Especially Louis.

“He’s all you talk about,” Niall started, “and Gemma– well we think you should do something about it.”

Harry’s cheeks were flaming hot then. He wanted to blame the alcohol, but he knew better, “And what should that be?”

Niall threw his hands in the air, “Ask him out maybe? Bed him? _Something._ ”

Harry finished his wine in one go. He wasn’t drunk enough to deal with this, “We’re _friends_ , Niall. _Just_ friends.”

"Yes! And that’s wonderful. Yas and me are best friends, too. It’s great to have that connection with someone especially on an emotional level.” Niall gripped his shoulder, “You’re more with Louis too. You have that connection with him.” 

_“No_ , I don’t," he denied with vehemence because of course he did! But he couldn’t fuck this up, he enjoyed Louis’ company. He’d rather be his friend then not have any sort of relationship with him.

“Harry, you’re a shit liar,” Niall mocked him. “What about the tattoo then?”

He reached for the bottle of wine, “How do you know about the tattoo?” He quickly poured himself another glass.

Niall watched him sceptically, “So, it’s not a coincidence then.”

“What did Zayn tell you?” Harry felt betrayed, hurt, so out of sorts.

“Nothing. Liam did. Zayn is all for privacy and shit, you know – ‘boundaries’,” Niall gestured quotation marks with his hands. “Liam was so excited when he found out, he called me immediately. He said he was happy you were...in love with Louis.” 

He took a rather large gulp of his wine in hopes of getting completely wrecked before he had to respond but that was wishful thinking. “Oh,” Harry didn’t realize how obvious he was which made him even more concerned because– “Does Lou know?”

“Dunno, did you show him?”

“No.” Maybe it wasn’t the smartest move to let Zayn tattoo an outline of a guitar on his shoulder. But _he_ loved to play. It was a small tattoo, nothing out of the ordinary but it represented Louis too.

_Oh God_ , he would have to move out of his flat and change his name, leave the country even! 

“Harry, mate, I love you, but don’t you see how far you’ve fallen for him?” Harry fell silent. “We don’t want to see you getting hurt.”

Or watch him fuck up so they have to move?

“We’re _friends_ ,” the lie tasted bitter on his tongue.

“Fucking hell, Harry. We’re going in circles. Man up. Tell him. We all think you would be great together. If he doesn’t feel the same, at least you would know and could move on to some other bloke.”

“Yeah, because there’s a queue of incredible guys _just_ waiting for me,” Harry scoffed. 

“Actually, there is. Nick flirts with you like crazy every time we’re in _Red Light_. But you’re too busy staring at Louis to notice.”

“Nick?” 

“Don’t tell me this is news to you.” 

“Maybe I wasn’t really paying attention,” since Harry was too busy with Louis, obviously.

“I know,” Niall didn’t continue after that.

Harry drank his wine while Niall downed two more beers, thankfully moved onto _other_ topics not surrounding his love life. It was a relief.

Before Harry fell asleep that night, he thought again about what Niall told him. He was a mess. He needed more time to think all this through. Maybe it was just a stupid crush that would pass. But when his cell phone lit up with the message _“Goodnight, Curly”_ he knew he was fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you like it so far? Do you think Harry will ask Louis out?


	6. Six

After Harry’s conversation with Niall, he knew he had to do something, anything. Harry was slowly getting some confidence. He knew Louis well at this point, so ideas just kept coming. Getting Louis to say _yes_ was the burning problem. 

Harry’s feelings for Louis flourished with every passing day, every coffee they drank, every time Louis flicked his head to fix his fringe. He was enamoured, completely enthralled, so stuck on who Louis was as a person. Harry was more than gone, he was–

Was he in love?

And his idea hit him then, the perfect date.

Louis missed seeing stars in the sky in London. And soon there will be a blue moon or that was what his colleague had told him. Harry could invite Louis to the planetarium casually, which would eliminate the possibility of him saying _no_ or suspecting anything more. Marvellous!

Harry went to the library to study more about the moon and the stars. He even begged Brenda from the Science Department to show him around the telescopes so he wouldn’t break anything. 

Everything had to be perfect.

Only Gemma and Niall knew about his plan and they both loved the idea. It sounded romantic. Gemma swore that Louis would absolutely love it. Niall promised that if Louis hated the idea, he would be next in line and would date the shit out of Harry (on one condition – Yasmin couldn’t know).

When the _blue moon Saturday_ finally arrived, Harry was a nervous wreck. He took a long shower and then spent half an hour in front of his wardrobe choosing the right outfit. Something simple would do since this was _another normal_ evening. At least to Louis. To him it was special and quite possibly a turning point in their relationship.

He decided on dark blue skinny trousers, a long-sleeved t-shirt, a light cream jumper, boots, and his new navy coat with contrast trims on the sleeves. Casual yet somewhat amped up. Right?

“Good luck, H, and let me know how it goes,” Niall said as Harry rushed past in a hurry.

“Please get me the bag of groceries in the kitchen?” he asked.

“Don’t be nervous. It’s just him and you. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

“I know,” Harry shifted his weight because this was different. He made that call when this became _more._ “Don’t you know what guys are up to today?”

“Both at work. You got him all for yourself. I have plans with Yas, Gemma knows, she won’t bother you either.”

He checked his reflection, adjusted a stray curl, “Good. Thanks, Ni.”

“Now you better go get ya man,” Niall pushed him out of the door, grinning like a fool.

They spent the afternoon baking, this time it was vanilla pear muffins, and this time Louis actually helped him instead of just watching and eating ingredients. Harry considered this a win. 

As usual, the day passed quickly. They rested in the living room while the muffins baked, discussing nothing but nonsense from the weather to how their days went. They also talked about books and how Louis loved reading poetry. He also added that if he didn’t devote himself to music, he would have studied literature, perhaps psychology. So, basically Louis was a romantic, a small fact that made Harry’s heart flutter with joy.

“Do you know that today is a blue moon?” Harry asked to get this _date_ in full swing because his insides were in knots and how long could he possibly wait?

“Blue moon? It’s an actual thing and not just a phrase? You know, once in a blue moon?” Louis questioned.

“Yeah,” Harry grinned. “In fact, it’s a _special_ full moon that only appears once in a _blue moon_. When there are four full moons in a season, the third one is considered the blue moon. But it could also be when you have two full moons in one month–”

“Alright there, Harold. Breathe!” Louis jested.

Harry blushed, “Sorry.”

“Is it even blue?” Louis continued on with his questions.

“No, it’s not,” Harry took a deep breath. “The moon can have some colours from time to time which is caused by atmospheric dust. But when you watch the moon with a telescope there might be some colours visible, you know, some other than what we see normally.”

“So you study astronomy in your spare time?” Louis’ cheekiness is adorable, but not when it’s directed at Harry. 

“I work at a planetarium. I’m bound to learn a thing or two.” 

Louis grinned, “Nerd.”

“Maybe,” he found Louis’ crinkly eyes. 

Harry found him so beautiful, so delicate. His hair was getting a bit longer too, sweeping closer to his brow line, framing his face. All he wanted was to touch them and savour in their softness. 

“Hey, Lou. Here’s an idea, we should go watch the moon together. To see its _true_ colours.”

Louis’ eyes widened in what looked to be excitement, “You wanna go up on the roof?”

Harry shook his head, “No, I meant to the planetarium. I can show you around. We can try with a telescope or we can watch the night sky movie in the auditorium. It’s beautiful.”

“Is it allowed?” Louis asked sceptically.

“Well, I work there, it’s not like we’ll be trespassing,” Harry clarified.

“Alright, sure. Let me go change then.”

Louis was ready to go in less than two minutes and naturally he looked gorgeous in all black. And those jeans? 

“You can’t go without shoes you know,” Harry gestured to Louis’ socked feet.

“Thank you _Captain Obvious_. I have my favourite shoes in the doorway.”

The hall was lined with multiple pairs of footwear, the mess somehow an organized chaos, “You’d think four people lived here!" 

“Says the lad with the never-ending ring collection,” Louis quipped, knelt down to tie his shoe. “And the initials?! Afraid you’ll forget?” 

Harry’s face reddened, “They were a gift.”

Louis ceased his movements, “From whom? You wear them all the time.”

“From myself.”

“Oh,” Louis finished, standing back up. “That’s some gift.”

Harry looked at his hand, admired them, “They’re a reminder.”

Louis stifled a laugh, “I figured you were the type who’d forget their own initials.” 

“They remind me I’m worthy of love and happiness,” Harry admitted.

“Oh,” Louis shoved his arms through a bomber jacket. Should Harry elaborate? “Of course you are. But why need a reminder when it’s something we all deserve?”

He shook his head, “Never mind. You probably wouldn’t understand.”

Louis’ face remained stoic, “I’m sure I would.”

“Maybe.”

“Whatever, let’s go!”

Harry packed some muffins knowing that he had at least two bottles of wine in his office from a few of their sponsors and off they went. 

And it was chilly outside. 

Louis had his hands in his pockets. Harry, on the other hand, was all hot with anticipation and full of nerves. He regretted his clothing choice and feared he’d sweat through the material.

Louis liked Harry’s workplace a lot, it was cosy and tasteful with some obvious ‘funny’ touches from Harry himself – such as big lettering on his door _‘Give me some space’._

“Now that’s original, Harold!” 

“I thought so,” Harry grinned. “Do you want some wine, Lou? We can have an indoor picnic.”

“What do you have?”

“Spanish red or sparkly French white.”

“Make it bubbly then. Red wine and stars? Only a blanket and a lullaby would be missing.”

“On it, sleepy head,” Harry prepared two glasses, put the muffins on a serving plate and led Louis to the observatory. 

It took them a while to actually set the telescope so they could see something. Observing the moon wasn’t as spectacular as Harry hoped it would be. The full moon was brighter than most of the stars so that only the brightest were visible, just like the lights of a city. They tried to observe objects of deep space too, searched for faraway galaxies even though the chances of actually finding one was slim. It was the thought that seemed like a thrill.

Louis opened the second bottle of wine while Harry was setting the projector onto the ceiling so they would be able to watch the night's sky comfortably. Louis decided that he would rather have it with some music than with a lecture playing. 

Harry turned off all the lights and sat down next to Louis leaving _just enough_ space between them, “Are you comfortable?”

“Yup. Here,” Louis handed over Harry’s wine glass.

“I would tell you about the stars, but I only found a movie with a view from the southern hemisphere,” he said. “Well, it’s still beautiful but I don’t know anything about it.”

Louis giggled, “And here I thought you were a real nerd.”

Harry looked over at _his date_ and Louis was so close. He could just lean in and kiss him on the cheek, “A space geek to be exact.” Or lips perhaps? 

It would be under the stars though and quite romantic.

“Sure,” Louis glanced at him. “We can just admire it from here.”

“Yeah,” Harry turned to the projector and watched the stars twinkle imagining how soft Louis’ lips would be.

They spent the next hour creating names of their own constellations for fun, coming up with different stories and mythologies to go along with their creations. It was comical and ended the night on a positive note. 

Well almost positive. They stood outside Louis’ building and Harry was either overly confident or possibly tipsy, but whatever the case may be, he wanted to end the evening with a kiss.

“So I was–”

“Harry,” Louis said timidly, staring at his sneakers. “Do you– was this– I couldn’t help but think–"

He gripped his fingers, “Think what?” 

“Was this supposed to be a date?” Louis whispered.

Okay, never mind. No kiss. 

Harry’s throat went dry. He looked at the top of Louis’ head in horror. What could one say to answer this question? His heart was pounding, he shivered as cold sweat hit his neck and back. He just wanted to disappear before he could pass out. 

Their eyes met then and Harry just _knew._

“No. No, no– well, it was a nice evening, right? A nice evening of star gazing and wine drinking,” he quickly recovered, unconvincingly. But who was he kidding? He wanted this to be a date.

With Louis’ head down, Harry couldn’t read his emotions, “Oh ok. I wasn’t sure." He finally looked up at Harry with a neutral expression, “Wanna come up? We can, you know, watch a movie?” 

“I’m quite tired, Lou, gonna head home,” Harry said, having lost his vibrato. He wondered if there were some “casual lying” courses, because he desperately needed to take one. He didn't sound convincing at all.

Louis knew Harry wasn't telling truth, so he nodded, managed a small, crooked grin, “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, later.” 

After a moment of awkward silence, Louis hugged him, wrapped his arms around Harry’s midsection, held him with a tight grip. It felt like a promise, reassuring. It felt warm. 

They held on tight for a moment longer. 

“Goodnight, Harry,” Louis said almost inaudibly. He dropped his arms and entered the building without another word or glance. 

Harry just stood there. Like an idiot. The whole evening passed before his eyes again, over and over. After all, it was a date. It was supposed to be a date. Why did he say it _wasn’t_? Did Louis want it to be a date? Did Harry come across as the biggest coward? He should have told him. Kissed him. Sealed the deal! What was wrong with him!?

But Harry still had a chance! So he quickly went after him.

And as he stood in front of Louis’ door, he became insecure all over again, about kissing, about saying the night _was_ a date. Harry really didn’t want to fuck up this up. This was too special.

“I can do it,” he said aloud. “I have to–”

A soft, melancholy piano tune filled the hallway, disrupting Harry’s rant. It was Louis. It sounded phenomenal but it was– sad. It went straight to Harry’s heart because why was Louis upset? Was it Harry’s fault? 

He’d fucked up anyway it seemed.

Harry rested his forehead against the door and listened, he decided to record it on his phone to add to his ‘Lou Folder’, a file that he created a while ago. Every song Louis sent him, he saved, kept close to his heart when he needed a boost or just to imagine how beautiful Louis looked while playing. It was his escape. 

They were these little riddles which Harry hoped to solve someday. He wasn’t even certain if they were real songs or just made up melodies Louis came up with on the fly. But this one, this one was a song for sure. 

But it sounded so different, more intense.

Louis was always careful with his instruments, played with passion but delicately. Now his playing sounded urgent, angered, abrupt. Harry couldn’t tell what that meant. Louis was hitting the keys like he wanted to break them, express himself through the music surrounding him. Was he even singing? Harry didn’t know.

Hard slam of wooden fallboard interrupted Harry’s thoughts and reminded him he probably should leave before he could be caught red handed. Caught eavesdropping during a moment Louis probably wanted to keep private. 

He found himself at _Red Light_ a little while later after roaming streets aimlessly. He wanted to avoid the jokes and humiliation from Niall and his sister, needed a moment to rehash the evening and how he managed to fuck up the night anyway.

And he thought he was careful.

Nick approached him right away with a smile. He attempted small talk, but Harry really wasn’t having it and was only half listening, only offering half-hearted answers. 

“I’ll surprise you then! Wait right here,” Nick turned on his heel and went to make him a drink.

Maybe this was what Harry needed – some easy, mindless chatter. And Nick made him feel like he is the centre of his universe. He was funny and put one colourful, and rather strong, drink in front of him after another. 

Harry became tipsy, _very_ tipsy. 

So tipsy, that he was laughing and flirting with Nick, batting his eyelashes, laying it on too thick. No harm in that, right? He was alone, somewhat available, and lonely. So he welcomed whatever Nick had to offer.

“ _What_?” He was pulled from an alcohol induced sleep, blinked a few times before realizing his ringing phone. “Hullo?” He searched the unfamiliar room, questioning why he chose this as his outlet and not–

“Mate, it’s noon and I’m dying to know what happened!” It was Niall and his too cheery voice, “Spill it!”

“Shhh. Not so loud,” Harry begged. 

He had to deal with Niall first, his shame had to wait. Nick lay under the light duvet, his face pressed to the pillow, his t-shirt on. Maybe it wasn’t as awful as it looked, he thought and carefully shimmied out of bed so he wouldn’t wake him up.

“I’m here, Niall,” he whispered. “Thanks for the wake up call, I really need to get out of here.”

“You alright?”

“I’m…” He ran a hand down his face, “I’m not at Louis’.”

“What!?” Niall practically shouted. 

“Not so loud! My head’s gonna combust,” Harry begged, “it didn’t go as planned.”

“Where are you then? Why didn’t you call me?”

“I really should have called. I know. I’m sorry, Ni. I just," Harry’s beyond ashamed, “can we meet for breakfast?”

“Ok, I’ll order you something in Starbucks. But hurry, or I’ll eat it because I’m starving,” Niall said. “And I wanna hear the whole story. You can’t just not come home and expect there won’t be any questions.” 

“Okay, _mum_. I’m on my way,” Harry agreed sarcastically and ended the call.

He quickly refreshed himself, scribbled a short note with his phone number for Nick and left his flat.

It took Harry more than forty five minutes to get to the Starbucks since Nick didn’t live in their neighbourhood. He felt terrible. Fragments of last night were randomly popping up in his already pounding head, now adding these memories to the mix. It hurt _more_ to think about it. 

“Sorry,” he apologised as he slid into the seat opposite Niall. There were two empty cups of coffee and one empty plate. 

“Well, your drink is cold, but the veggie wrap should still be good.”

“Shit, sorry.”

“It’s ok, I’ve already ordered some more. Just waiting for them to call my name. So, where were you last night?”

“Well, I spent the night at Nick’s,” he admitted, the guilt began to weigh heavily on his shoulders.

Niall didn’t say a word. He just stared back at him. His face didn’t say much either. 

So Harry continued. 

“The date. It was everything. You know. Louis was being his incredible self and...” he shrugged because why?

“And how exactly did you manage to go from Louis is an angel sent from heaven to _sleeping_ with Nick?” 

He cradled his head in his hands, “Tone it down, for the love of God! Not everyone in Starbucks needs to know what I did last night. And I don’t exactly remember so please!"

“I’m not judging. Not yet. But you aren’t explaining shit, mate. I’m confused.”

“It went well with Lou, I walked him home. I wanted to kiss him–”

“I’m sensing some _but_...”

“ _But_ he asked if it was supposed to be a date. And I told him some lame excuse. I dunno why I panicked. He makes me nervous I suppose. All those talks with Zayn how Louis doesn’t date sort of put this fear in my head that he would laugh at me.”

Niall shook his head, “Louis would never do that to you. He’s in love–”

“Don’t say _that_! Please just don’t. Oh God, why am I such a dick? Gemma’s gonna eat me alive. I told him that it wasn’t a date and ugh! I planned last night for two _whole_ weeks. I’m an idiot.” Harry’s hangover made him all whiny and annoying. “He asked me if I wanted to come upstairs.” 

“And?” 

“I told him _‘No’_ like an arsehole.”

“Harry!”

“Clearly, I wasn’t thinking _clearly_.” 

“What the fuck, H? He _obviously_ wanted it to be a date.” 

“I went up. Later. After the fact to tell him the truth, but I heard him playing through the door and listened instead,” he ran a hand down his face, “it sounded angry.” 

Niall rolled his eyes, “Are you kidding me?”

“It really did, I have it. I’ve recorded it. I can play it for you!”

“Sure if that’ll make you feel better,” Niall put his headphones on. “I think I know the song.” He said after a moment.

Harry’s eyes widened, “You do? What is it?” 

“I’m not telling.” 

“Niall! _Please_.”

“No, my wisdom, my rules. Tell me what the _hell_ happened.” 

Harry recapped the night as quickly as possible, “I went to _Red Light_. Nick was there. He made me some cocktails. It was fun. We drank a lot. I got drunk, really drunk – guessing from how my head hurts right now. I don’t know. You woke me up when you called me.”

“Did you do the deed then?" Niall asked, his voice grave. “I want the truth.”

Harry looked to the table, “I don’t think so? But then again how would I know? I probably wasn’t even able to form a coherent sentence, _you know_.” 

“Do you remember _anything_ at all?”

“Well some kissing and grinding maybe? My wrists are a little sore so maybe–”

“Did you get chained to the bed or what!?”

And then Harry’s phone beeped. But Niall was faster and reached for it before Harry could even blink. And there it was – a message from Nick. 

_\-- Good morning, Harry. Where did you disappear to?_

“Well, well, well,” Niall grinned and responded. 

- ** _\- Family thing. Sorry. I didn’t want to wake you that soon. Did we...?_**

_\-- You wish!_

_\-- Kidding_

_\-- You were begging for it though. But I wanna treat you right, baby_

**\-- * _blushing_ ***

_\-- Don’t be shy now. Your mouth was sinful and your hands… glorious!!_

_\-- I’ll certainly be thinking of you in the shower_

_\-- Have a great day xo_

“Eww, Harry, what have you done to him?” Niall passed the phone back to Harry.

He went pale when he saw the exchange with Nick. But at the same time, he was kind of glad Niall took over for him because with this headache it would have taken him half of the day to think of a response. 

Niall left to meet up with Yasmin leaving Harry to his lonesome and to his thoughts.

He was relieved that he could share even his lowest points in life with a true friend. But still, he felt like utter shit. Yesterday should have played out differently but it was all on him, he chickened out with Louis, got drunk and flirted with Nick knowing the guy had a crush on him. What he did wasn’t fair to either of them.

Harry was pathetic and hid in his room for the remainder of the day, replayed his night with Louis at the planetarium, realized just how perfect it was and how incredible it would have been if he just kissed Louis.

And admitted it was a date.

_\-- H, meet me at 7.30 at our pizza spot. This is not a question but a demand_

**_\-- Everything okay? Should I be scared?_ **

_\-- Maybe_

**_\-- Gemma!_ **

_\-- 7.30, brother. On the dot_

Harry found both his sister and _best friend_ when he entered the restaurant and immediately thought, _intervention_. 

Gemma immediately teased him about what Niall had told her about last night the moment he took a seat, “My life sounds like a soap opera. Can we not shit on it anymore?”

Gemma spoke up first, “The Harry I know would have taken his _man_ out on a date, treated him like royalty and _kissed_ him goodnight, not leave him high and dry to flirt with the guy at the bar.”

“Louis doesn’t know I went,” Harry declared.

“ _Zayn_ saw you,” Niall confessed.

His eyes widened in horror, “ _What_?”

“Z was at _Red Light_ with some of his friends from _Needle_. He _saw_ you.”

“When?” He felt sick to his stomach.

“Dunno. Long story short, Zayn told Louis you were on a date with Nick.”

He mentally slapped himself, cussed himself, kicked himself in the crotch even! Anything to inflict the most damage. 

He remained closed off and immersed himself in the specials instead. 

Gemma reached for him, “Harry, talk to us.”

“Gems, there’s clearly nothing to discuss. I fucked up,” he admitted.

“You don’t know that!”

“Oh, trust me, I do. I knew Lou had some trust issues or commitment issues or whatever issues holding him back and hooking up with Nick will only prove to him that I’m not _serious_ about him which is completely _false_ ,” he gripped his curls. “And let’s not forget how I hit on Zayn at Liam’s party. Damn it, I’m shitty boyfriend material!! I should probably stay away.”

“H, you are indeed material.” Niall giggled. “But a very lovely one. Don’t give up just yet.”

Harry looked to Niall, “Was Zayn upset with me?” 

"Doubtful. He’s just looking after Lou."

Harry dismissed his friend having enough of this conversation, “Let’s order, please? I can’t deal with this right now.” 

Later that night, when Harry couldn’t sleep, he went and knocked at Niall’s bedroom door. He was watching some movie.

“What’s up, Harry?”

"What was the song Lou was playing? I _need_ to know!" He was exhausted, his eyelids were heavy, his limbs like lead. He needed sleep but couldn’t relax.

Niall glanced at him, “I don’t think you want to know.”

“Just fucking tell me,” he demanded, his patience wearing thin.

“It’s going to make you sad.”

“I’m already sad, Ni. It can’t get any worse,” he begged.

“Okay, it’s your funeral,” Niall reached for Harry’s phone, plugged in a pair of headphones and searched for the song. “Here ya have it, mate.” 

And he listened. 

“Are you alright there, H?”

“No,” Harry murmured and turned away from him. He hit the replay button again and closed his eyes as Niall stroked his back to soothe him.

He eventually dozed off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you are wondering what song Louis played on the piano it's called [Another Love](https://open.spotify.com/track/3JvKfv6T31zO0ini8iNItO?si=2kabzVQBS1-pe4gSe48JGA).


	7. Seven

Louis hadn’t texted Harry in four days. _Four long days_. And Harry had a text saved in his drafts that he changed on average three times, in a day. He just couldn’t bring himself to break first in fear of looking desperate.

Or just simply pathetic because how would he apologize?

He even skipped the usual Tuesday night outing with the lads at _Red Light_ in fear of seeing Nick. Harry wasn’t ready to have a conversation with him yet knowing there was too much unfinished business between them.

So he lied and said he met up with Gemma so _she wasn’t alone_. Although it wasn’t a total lie since he was on the phone with her bitching all night. She ended up reporting back to Niall and it turned out Louis didn’t go out either.

Harry immediately thought the worst possible conclusion: Louis was avoiding him. Harry looked like he was avoiding Louis. 

After another day of radio silence, Harry found himself en route to _John’s_ after work. He was done with being a coward and figured this was the best place to meet. But Louis’ table at the café was empty. He spotted Meghan behind the counter and he asked her whether she’s seen Louis today. 

“I haven’t, not since Friday. But he probably won’t come today since he never comes on Wednesdays.”

“Oh,” Harry wondered, “why?”

“You’re his friend, not me. Why don’t you text him?” 

“Yeah, easier said than done,” he thanked her and left the coffee shop having nothing else to say. 

What should he do now then? What was the way to a man’s heart?

Food?

Bingo!

Harry baked raspberry muffins with chocolate chips which turned out to be Louis’ favourite and headed to his flat to make amends. On the way over, Harry attempted to come up with a solid opener but could only come up with ‘I’m sorry’ which was totally lame and inauthentic.

Harry needed something powerful, meaningful, sincere!

But he failed and was at Louis’ door knocking, kicking himself for not being more original, “Here it goes.” He waited and nothing. “Strange.” So, he knocked again and again! Still nothing? “What if _he’s_ on a date!?” The thought chilled him to the bone–

But the door finally opened to reveal a dishevelled Louis.

Harry’s heart sank to his feet at the sight, “Lou, are you okay?” 

That wasn’t his plan but how would anyone react? Louis was in a rumpled t-shirt and boxers, his fringe plastered to his forehead from sweat, his cheek creased and red from lying on a pillow.

“‘m sick,” was all he divulged. 

“Why didn’t you text? Call? Email? Send a carrier pigeon named Kevin?” Harry asked. “I would have come and took care of you.”

“You’re making me cold from the draft,” Louis ignored his rant. “Come in.”

So he did and handed Louis the wrapped muffins, “Your favourite, freshly baked.” 

“Chocolate chips ones? With raspberries?”

“Yeah, but you should maybe go back to bed. Do you have fever?”

“I don’t have a thermometer, Curly.”

“Let me...” Harry gently touched his face. Damn it, he was on fire. Harry took him to the bathroom and Louis hasn’t even protested. He helped him out of his t-shirt. Louis shivered immediately. All his tattoos were on display, but this wasn’t the time to drool over ink on his chest, not over his soft toned skin, slight abs around his tummy. Harry let him there to take a shower on his own. Meanwhile he went to his bedroom and stripped his sheets and searched for clean ones. He made his bed and went to prepare a big cup of tea. 

Louis emerged from his room in a fresh pair of black joggers and a blue Adidas t-shirt. He went straight to the living room and huddled into the armchair. 

Harry followed after him, “Feeling better?” 

“Dunno, maybe,” he shrugged, reaching over for the mug in Harry’s hand. “Thank you,” he offered a crooked, half smile.

Harry shifted his weight, “Have you eaten anything?” Louis shook his head no. “Not good. You need real food! Not just tea and muffins. How will you get better with a lack of nourishment?” He began pacing. “I should go to the store and get you some veggies for a soup, maybe some kale too. No avocados because we all know how you feel about those. And besides who eats soup with–”

“It’s fine, Harry,” Louis interrupted. “I’m not hungry.”

Harry stopped mid step, “But you have to get better and this won’t cut it.” He said, finally turned to Louis who’s huddled into the armchair without a blanket. “Let me take care of you.”

He grinned, “What have I done to deserve such a good friend?” 

“Well, you deserve better than me,” Harry admitted. “But enough of that, let’s get you tucked in bed.”

He helped Louis to his room, arranged a few pillows around him, basically made a burrito out of him. It was the cutest sight just seeing Louis’ head peeking out from the covers. 

But what else could he do? Read him a bedtime story? Rock him to sleep?

Louis chose the former much to Harry’s dismay.

In the living room, Harry found Christian Andersen’s fairy tale book and started to read _The Steadfast Tin Soldier_. Louis closed his eyes, mumbling something about how his mum used to read him this book when he was a kid and how Harry’s voice was so calming and soothing, perfect for bedtime stories. Louis fell back to sleep before the tin soldier melted into the shape of a little heart. 

While he slept, Harry went shopping, cooked strong vegetable broth, stored everything in microwavable containers for easy heating. He left directions on the lids just in case as well. 

Harry also did laundry, admired every article of clothing as he folded it, pictured Louis in his work attire. It was a moment that tugged at his heartstrings for all the wrong reasons because why was folding laundry making him emotional? It was his least favourite chore to do.

Before he left, he placed a note beside a few apples and bananas he also purchased, on the counter: 

**_Lou,_ **

**_Hope you feel better._ **

**_Text me when you can._ **

**_-H_ **

The answer came the next day before lunch. Louis sent him a text with a _thank you_ and asked him to meet him later at the coffee shop which Harry agreed to without hesitation.

Louis was already seated when Harry arrived with a cup of coffee and his laptop before him.

“Hi Lou, have you been waiting for long?” he sat down.

Louis greeted with him a grin, “Hey. Not at all, I was working actually.” He quickly closed the laptop and tucked it into a small bag hung across his chair.

Harry inspected Louis’ features, “You look much better.”

“Feeling better,” Louis faced him again, his beauty knocking Harry for a loop because he looked gorgeous. “Thank you, you know, for taking care of me.” He began. “I’ve never had my laundry folded so neatly before,” he chuckled.

Harry joined in, “You're welcome, Lou. It was my pleasure. I’d do it again if need be.”

“I must have caught something Saturday. I was quite okay on Sunday but on Monday it got worse and yesterday, well, I could have died if you didn’t find me!” Louis chuckled but he soon sobered, paused a moment. “You know, I wanted to talk about Saturday.”

Harry nodded, practically collapsing from his nerves, “Sure.” 

Louis shifted in his seat, clasped his hands together, “How do I put this…”

Harry wanted to run for the hills because what was Louis thinking? What did _he_ think Saturday night was? “Um–”

“I really had a great time on Saturday,” Harry sighed in relief, “and you’ve become one of my best friends and I really enjoy the time that we spend together.” Louis finally looked to Harry. “I feel comfortable around you, like I can be myself, not worry about life for a bit and that’s irreplaceable _, you’re_ irreplaceable so I don’t want to fuck up anything, you know? And I know I sort of assumed Saturday was a date which I didn’t mean to say or mislead you into anything.” He exhaled a deep breath. “I can’t have a proper relationship– – I don’t feel like I could do it or give it my all.”

Louis continued, “I don’t want to lose you as a friend or let anything get in between us, especially a stupid misunderstanding. And you were on a date with Nick,” Harry bit his tongue, “that’s great. Really a relief. I hope everything works out between you two.”

Harry bypassed the _‘I can't have a proper relationship’_ confession and went right to the _issue_ , “I’m not dating anyone,” he concluded. “Especially not Nick, I just bumped into him by accident, we had a few drinks.” 

“He has a crush on you, Harry. He’ll ask you out for sure,” Louis encouraged.

Harry resigned after Louis’ little speech, sort of threw in the towel since it was _quite_ clear their relationship was platonic. _Friends_. But it was enough, even if it hurt, he still had Louis’ companionship after everything (including his atrocious flirting). Nothing would change. Absolutely nothing. They were _friends_ and that was it. Good mates. 

They later said goodbye with the promise to see each other on Friday for movie night with the lads, the only promise that was… Promising.

Harry called Gemma sulking on his way home, “Friends!” he nearly pulled a chunk of hair free, “Gemma!”

“What’s the alternative?” she asked.

“Me pining wishing we were together?” Harry said with uncertainty.

“No, Harry–”

“Me being a lovesick fool,” he frowned at the thought, “being so stuck on Louis I’ll mess up our friendship anyway because I couldn’t be stronger and just _accept_ his feelings? Or lack thereof?”

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself and put this energy into being there for Louis. He obviously appreciates what you both are, so just take it for what it is.”

“I don’t have a choice,” he concluded.

“I’m sorry, brother. But you don’t.”

He spoke with Niall later on at dinner, “ _Friends_!”

“Yeah well at least you laid it out there and now you know where you stand.”

Yeah, in the friend zone. That’s where Harry was standing.

Harry’s ego was shot to shit and not just from Louis’ resiliency to his flirting and obvious charm, but from the lack of love he craved. He wanted to be in a _relationship_ and being someone’s bro-pal wasn’t going to cut it.

Sadly, he had to look elsewhere.

**_\-- Hi, Nick. How are you doing?_ **

_\-- Hello gorgeous. Haven’t heard from you in a while_

**_\-- Sorry, crazy week at work._ **

_\-- Tell me about it. Happy Hour is upon us_

**_\-- I don_ ** _**’t** **want to keep you from work. But did you wanna maybe get together sometime?** _

_\-- I do. I need to take you out on that date!_

**_\-- Oh, looking to treat me right?_ **

_\-- I plan on it. How does Saturday sound?_

**_\-- Sounds great._ **

_\-- I'm looking forward to it, baby xx_

**_\-- Me too. See you then._ **

  
  


****

All the boys and Yas met in upper flat on Friday night. They were all seated at the table with the exception of Liam who was running late due to a new case he was assigned. Harry and Zayn ended up cooking together in an attempt to avoid ordering take-away every night.

They started with Thai pumpkin coconut soup and fresh spring rolls. And for the main entree green chicken curry with bell peppers and rice. After dinner, everyone made their way to the living room. Zayn and Liam were sitting on the smaller couch, Niall and Yas were cuddled on the bigger sofa, Louis was in the armchair, and Harry sat on the floor in front of Louis. They were discussing plans and ideas for the weekend. Niall and Yasmin suggested that they all should go somewhere away from London. Liam wanted to blow off some steam and go dancing. Zayn was practically living in Liam's pocket, so he thought clubbing was the best option for Saturday. Louis was indecisive and therefore said he would do what anyone else decided to do.

“Harry?” Niall asked.

“Huh?” he turned his head towards his friend. He was _intrigued_ by the movie they were supposed to be watching. “What?”

“What do you wanna do tomorrow?”

He shrugged, “Dunno about you guys,” he looked to Yas “and gals. But I have a date.” Everyone’s mouths dropped nearly simultaneously. Harry would have chuckled if it were under different circumstances. But the worst part was not knowing how Louis felt because his reaction mattered most to him.

“With?” Liam broke the silence.

“Uh well, you know him actually,” Harry said.

“We do?” Niall tapped his chin.

Harry glared at his friend, “ _Yes_. It’s–” he choked up, “Nick.”

“Ah-ha!” Zayn shouted, “I knew it!” he nudged his boyfriend, “see Liam? Ya see!? I’m getting better at the whole flirting thing.” 

Liam pushed his hand down, “Tone it down a notch, bunny.” He turned to red faced Harry. “That’s great. I hope you two have fun.”

He shrugged, “Thanks, I guess. It’s our first date so who knows what’s going to happen.”

Niall waggled his eyebrows, “Well, we all know what’s going to–” Yas smacked him in the arm in warning. “Right! Yeah…”

“Where are you taking him?” Louis spoke up, his tone clipped.

“He’s, he’s actually planning it,” Harry stammered.

“ _Interesting_.” Louis’ voice seemed all wrong, angered almost, maybe filled with jealousy. Which was ridiculous because he made that call not Harry.

But now that he thought about it, he had never given Louis a reason to think otherwise. 

Nick was at his place around five with a bouquet of freesias which took Harry’s breath away since he’s never received flowers before. Nick admitted he once overheard him and Louis talking about how they both loved flowers and never understood why they were only a gift for women. Harry just nodded at the mention of Louis and moved on, thanked Nick for the flowers with a kiss on the cheek and placed them in a vase.

The date was standard with a romantic dinner and movie, a little flirting and some chaste kisses. It was sweet. It was flat. It wasn’t– – _with Louis._

Nick talked a lot about himself, but it was interesting. He was from a fairly wealthy family and never wanted to study anything specific. He ended up throwing himself into various bartending and barista courses. He liked people, interaction, and working behind the bar. His dream was to open his own business and gaining experience at _Red Light_ was the best way to start.

Harry saw the movie Nick chose but decided to not say anything since he didn't want to spoil the evening with a change of plans. He just zipped his lips and pretended, laughed at the right places, not cringing when Nick gripped his thigh on multiple occasions.

Nick walked Harry home. He attempted to kiss him further than a peck on the lips, but Harry denied him the opportunity and held back. He wanted more than sex. He wanted a relationship. So, Harry assured him he had a wonderful evening and looked forward to their next night out.

The next day, Harry got a text and it wasn’t from Nick.

_\-- Good morning, Curly. Are you home?_

_\-- Alone?_

**_\-- Morning Lou. What a weird question…_ **

_\-- Not weird, a considerate one, you jerk. Niall went to Yasmin’s last night for the same reason as I am asking right now_

**_\-- Oh, you mean if I have Nick over?_ **

****

_\-- Do you?_

**_\-- No!_ **

_\-- Coffee and walk? I wanna get out of here before I ruin Sunday morning for my lovey-dovey friends_

**_\--Sure. Come by in 15._ **

Harry smiled to himself. A morning with Louis all alone sounded great, enticing, but better than he thought he would feel considering what Louis confessed to him. He has to enjoy it, right?

He took a quick shower, brushed his teeth and styled his hair in an attempt to contain the curls. He hastily dressed in a pair of trousers and a hoodie, grabbed his favourite rings and coat. He was set.

Physically. He would deal with the mental aspect later.

He ran to the door the moment he heard the knock, opened it wide and the view was both breathtaking and painful at the same time. Maybe it was the turtleneck or the slim jeans accentuating his curves or quite possibly the boots because when has Louis worn _boots_?

Whatever the reason, he enjoyed the ensemble for sure.

“Hi Lou,” Harry greeted him while he dropped down to put on his shoes. 

“Hello Curly. You have some proper stripper moves, did you know that?”

“Always looking to impress, you know,” he cleared his throat and his mind of any inappropriate thought a friend should be thinking about _his friend_. He straightened, reached for a scarf– _his_ scarf, “here, take this. It’s windy.”

Louis grinned, “Thanks.” 

On the way to _John Doe's_ , Louis recounted the events from last night. In a nutshell, Zayn couldn’t hold his liquor, at all, especially when compared to Niall. But Harry was quick to assure that Zayn experienced the so-called _Nialler Effect_ , a running joke amongst their college friends. Basically, he could drink anyone under the table and never experience the harsh hangovers as the average person. Niall called it good genes. Harry always thought it was from the amount of food he ate prior to going out. Whatever the case may be, it certainly wasn’t fair. 

Niall was also a whiskey aficionado and had a collection under lock and key in his room worth a pretty penny. Harry’s maybe seen it three times in the time they’ve known each other. It’s an exclusive collection, _very_ exclusive. He would have to ask Yas if she was allowed to see it. 

They ordered their coffees to go, said their hello to the staff and were off for a fun filled day. Harry was certain his eyes never left Louis' face, even when he ordered. He was enraptured by Louis’ features and everything he was as a person. He just wanted to touch. Was that too much to ask?

They managed to stumble upon a flea market in town, “I’ve never seen this before.” Harry commented as they wandered around.

“When have we ever been out before eleven on a Sunday morning?” Louis questioned.

“Oh, you’re right. Good call,” he concluded.

“So Harry, how was your date night with _Naughty_ Nick?”

The nickname made Harry cringe, “Why the lame name calling all of a sudden?”

“Well, it’s an alliteration and naughty was the only word I could think of,” Louis said, “like Bruce Banner, Peter Parker, Matt Murdock _, Naughty Nick_. He has some superpowers when he managed to score a date with our _Handsome Harold_.”

“You’re an idiot, _Lou_ ,” Harry chuckled. “But I think you meant it more in a Lex Luthor or Doctor Doom kind of way.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged.

“Hey! Be nice.” 

“I’m serious, how was it?”

“It was good for a first date I suppose. He could have put more effort into prepping before.” 

And Louis snorted, nearly drowned himself in his gulp of coffee, spitting it all around himself… Harry immediately regretted his choice of words, bit his tongue. “Not _that_ kind of prepping! Jesus. Lou, get your damn head out of the gutter.”

Louis sobered, rubbed at his teary eyes, “Sorry! But that's the first thing that comes to mind when you describe your first date with a fit dude."

Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation, “What I _meant_ was, we didn’t have enough time to talk, get to know each other. You know? He talked about himself over dinner, we saw a movie, which I’ve seen already– –” 

“You should have told him that."

“I didn’t want to ruin his plans,” he admitted.

“So you are _Humouring Harry_ , not _Handsome Harold_.”

“Excuse me! Take that back. I want to be handsome,” he pouted. 

“Aww, don’t go all puppy on me, you are handsome, Harry. The most handsome Harry I know to be precise!” Louis grinned.

“I love you, you dork,” Harry told him, draped his arm across Louis’ shoulders. He was only partly aware of how literal he meant his words. 

They wandered through the flea market, their conversation light-hearted and fun, full of jokes and laughter. His phone went off and Harry immediately reached for it. His eyes widened and evidently expressed his shock.

“Who is it?” Louis asked.

_\-- Hey babe. Ready for that next night out?_

But Harry ignored both – the message received from Nick and Louis’ question. He was in the middle of picking the right vintage bracelet for Gemma’s birthday. It was the perfect excuse. Besides, he and Louis were just having too much fun to break their momentum. After Harry paid for the bracelet, they enjoyed a quick lunch from an Asian food cart and then bought some mulled wine to warm themselves for another time.

Later, when Harry was on the phone with his sister, he discussed the details of his date with Nick, and mentioned what a wonderful time he had with Louis. Gemma didn’t say much, just listened for once. It was refreshing for Harry to just get his thoughts out without interruption. They also made plans to go home to surprise their mum next week for a 'just because' visit. Harry needed it, he needed time with his mother.

He also needed to rid his thoughts of actually _dating_ Louis, so he texted Nick back.

**_\-- Want to meet Wednesday?_ **

_\--_ _Sure! Looking forward to it, baby_

**_\-- I_** _**’ll** **coo** **k.** _

_\-- Sounds great. I can’t wait ;)_

He may or may not have intentionally chosen the only day out of the week Louis was busy. But Nick didn’t have to know that.


	8. Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! For warnings see notes below.

On Wednesday, Nick picked Harry up at work and accompanied him to the grocery store since Harry wanted to make a steak for dinner. He usually didn’t keep meat in the house anymore since he wanted to reduce the consumption of animal products, but doing the recipe he could do with his eyes closed would give him a perfect opportunity to get to know Nick better since he could focus fully on his date and not on the cooking.

Harry also arranged to have the flat to themselves beforehand, although Niall warned him to keep it down since he would be upstairs with the guys and they would be able to _hear_ them. Harry wanted to deny anything would happen, but he wasn't so sure anymore. Maybe he needed to let out some steam.

While shopping around, Harry found strawberries. They weren’t in season, but he figured he could splurge, make a Pavlova and impress _his date_. 

They talked as Harry worked, sipped at some wine Nick purchased at the store, and managed to create a restaurant quality steak with vegetables. It was delicious but as soon as Harry decorated the Pavlova with whipped cream, Nick immediately told him he wouldn’t even try it since there was too much sugar. Harry inwardly cursed at the man because he knew it would be ruined by morning if they didn’t eat it. 

What a waste. 

Nick noticed Harry’s disappointment and kissed him instead, insisted he wanted Harry for dessert rather than overpriced strawberries and cream. Harry’s head was clouded with whispered obscenities about how Nick wanted to eat him, taste him, kiss every inch of him. Umm, very promising. He needed to focus on that, focus on the moment, focus on making this work.

Their kisses turned frenzied, their movements uncoordinated and rather sloppy. It was similar to what one would do during a one night stand just to get the deed over and done with. But Harry took it. He went for Nick’s shirt and nearly ripped the cotton! All he wanted to think about was Nick kissing him. And it must have worked, they were in the bedroom soon enough and nearly naked, sprawled out on the bed. 

Nick bossed him around a bit and it was, surprisingly for Harry, very hot until Nick placed his mouth to his ear and whispered, “Tell _daddy_ what you want.” 

What? Did Harry hear him right? It was a bit unsettling, but he brushed it off when Nick mouthed across his collarbones, going down, swirling his tongue over his nipples. 

“That, that’s good. So good, please don’t stop!” Harry whimpered. He loved this kind of attention. “ _Please!_ ” he begged.

“Please _who_? Tell me, baby!” Nick took both of his wrists, pressed them both above his head. 

His eyes widened in a moment of panic because _who_ was Nick referring to, “ _What?_ ” 

“Behave for your _daddy_ ,” Nick’s tone was demeaning, never mind sensual, this was meant to make him feel– how did he feel? Dirty? Submissive? Well, Nick was holding Harry’s hands with a firm grip above his head almost immobilizing him. And this just wasn’t what he wanted!

He scrunched his eyes closed, shook his head, “Wait, _wait_.” 

Nick immediately released Harry's hands and sat back on his heels. They stared at each other both unsure how the other will react or start off. This was about to be the most awkward and uncomfortable sex talk in Harry’s life, probably much worse than when had to endure his mum talking about the birds and the bees. 

“Nick, I’m not into this. I’m sorry,” Harry started because he felt he needed to say something, anything. 

“Really? You seemed okay with it the last time.”

“What?” Harry was flabbergasted. He didn’t remember _last time_ , especially calling Nick _'daddy'._

“Harry, I’m so sorry. I guess I should have asked… But I assumed you like this,” Nick quickly stood and began dressing in what looked to be a hurry. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Everyone has their– um, kink, I guess. It doesn’t make it wrong especially if you enjoy it. It’s just not something I’m into.” 

In the end, they discussed it like the two adults they were. Nick told him what happened last time – Harry was really drunk and apparently moaned like a porn star when Nick dirty talked to him. It was fun, but Nick didn’t want to take advantage of him. 

What a gentleman. 

They laughed it off, decided to end the evening earlier than either expected, and Nick just thanked him for dinner with the promise of being friends.

And Harry was once again alone with a delicious dessert just waiting to be consumed and ugh! Harry was so done with dating!

He texted Niall to come down, told him the story and they shared a laugh because it _was_ hysterical. Harry wasn’t even upset or mad.

“Is it me, Niall? Am I doing something wrong?" 

“Nothing’s wrong with you, H.”

“Really? I think I could sell my life story to some sitcom writers. At least I would make some money out of my disastrous love life. I’m hopeless,” Harry pouted. “I want someone who I can’t have. And I really tried with Nick but why did he have to pull this daddy/baby shit?” Niall chuckled again. “Stop it, please. I’m not some– I don’t know. This dynamic is not for me. Ugh, why me?"

“It’s a power thing, he probably wanted some control over you in the bedroom. I’m surprised he jumped right into it."

“Well, he said I gave him some _signals_ the last time. He said I liked it. But I was sloshed. I probably wouldn’t care if he called me Wendy in that state.” 

Niall erupted with laughter again, “Oh God, I don’t wanna know more, Wendy. And don’t tell me you dream about fucking Peter Pan. Now stop sulking and come up with me. We have a movie on and I don't want to leave you alone here."

“I can’t.”

“Of course you can. Take your _puffy_ cakes and come, _baby_.”

“I will murder you if you tell anyone,” he threatened, taking the large plate with mini Pavlovas as he headed towards the door. 

“Do you want to be _the daddy_ , is that the issue?” Niall cackled.

“You’re lucky my hands are full!”

“I know, I know, I’m a dead man walking.”

The guys loved his dessert, unlike Nick. Harry was glad Louis wasn’t there because Niall didn’t stop with his ‘daddy jokes’ all night. He had a feeling that the events of his date with Nick will be a running joke for a bit. Gemma would never let this go once she would find out. And damn, he was right. His sister teased him about it for the duration of the ride home to Holmes Chapel on Friday. 

Despite that Harry was glad that they went together. The journey was always more pleasant by car and with Gemma. Their mum was excited to see them, and it turned into a lovely family weekend. They even had some family friends over for the traditional Styles’ game night. His team won three rounds of their game tournament. It was a great success (last time they played they only scored one win – shame). 

On Sunday morning he spoke with his mum over breakfast. Gemma was still asleep, so he took advantage of their alone time. She asked about his work, his new flat, _boys_. He of course left out the spicy details of his fall out with Nick, only mentioning that they didn’t click as well as he thought they would. Well, he didn’t lie. They briefly spoke about Gemma and Matt but that was when Harry got a text message from Louis.

“Who is it, Harry?” his mum asked.

Harry looked up from the screen, “What?”

She had some sixth sense for this kind of stuff, “On the phone, you smiled… Is it someone special?”

It was impossible for Harry to hide his fondness, “Well, yeah. He’s special. _Very_ special. A very special friend.”

“A friend?” she probed but not in an invasive way. She knew how to open Harry up. She had twenty six years of practice.

He resigned, “His name is Louis. I like him, a lot. He’s smart and kind, radiant, so funny, and damn cheeky just like Gemma. He’s a teacher, plays piano and guitar, loves to read,” Harry continued to smile at the thought of him, “we talk about everything together, too, practice playing, cook together– well I cook he sort of nibbles at the ingredients when he thinks I’m not looking. But he can crack eggs!” He giggled but sobered almost immediately. “He’s really friendly but sometimes he could be a bit reserved, almost like his thoughts got stuck on something he’s remembered, or he could be shy?"

"And his flat has no personal touches, like there’s only one photo of his family and some books and sheet music but it’s not homey. It feels like a blank page.” he sighed. “He doesn’t even have a throw blanket. Can you believe it? Everyone should have one especially to snuggle or watch a movie with. But I don’t know, maybe he’ll open up to me more one day, really tell me what goes on in that head of his. He’s just so beautiful all around.” 

“Honey, he seems wonderful. It’s great you’ve made a new friend.” 

“He really is, mum. So wonderful and special.” And so worthy of love but he left that out.

He typed a quick reply back.

**_\-- I'll be back this afternoon._ **

**_\-- I'll swing by before I head home because I miss you too._ **

He and Gemma left Holmes Chapel soon after lunch. It was a fun ride, mainly because his older sister let him drive for a change. He managed to get them back to London and in front of Louis’ place in less than four hours.

"Say hi to Lou for me," his sister said, gave him a wink and drove home.

It’s been over a week since he’s seen Louis which he didn’t think could be possible. They played guitar for a bit, Louis made him Yorkshire tea, and it was just like old times. It felt good to be around him even though Louis seemed a bit anxious.

Harry eventually asked, “Hey, Lou, is everything alright?”

His friend nodded, “I have an evaluation with the principal tomorrow, and I suppose I’m a bit nervous."

“You have no reason to be, you’re an incredibly gifted teacher and you have so many private students too. And if that counts for something – I’m your biggest fan and admirer. So, don’t worry about some formal meeting, alright?” Harry encouraged although he prayed that he didn't lay it on too thick.

Louis grinned, "Thanks. I’ll try my best.”

“You’ve already given it your all, no need to try.”

“Right,” he turned to Harry. “How did even your proposal in planetarium go? I haven’t seen you in a bit and didn’t get the chance to ask.”

“I don’t know yet, but the investors looked interested. I have a good feeling about it,” Harry had an idea. “If they give it the green light, we can go for a celebratory coffee to _John’s_. What do you think?”

“Deal, but don’t you wanna celebrate with _Nick_?”

“Oh, you haven’t heard?” 

“About what?” Louis asked.

Harry was shocked Niall didn't tell the neighbours five doors down about his unfortunate mishap in the bedroom, “We’re not seeing each other like that anymore.” He waited for Louis’ reaction, but he was lightly strumming the guitar, occasionally flicked his head to fix his fringe. “We didn’t have much in common.” 

But Louis knew Harry was hiding something, “You’re not gonna tell me what happened then?” 

His cheeks flared, “It’s embarrassing, really. I’m surprised that Niall or Liam haven’t told you already to be honest.”

“So they know and you won’t tell me?” Louis stopped playing. “That’s not fair at all, Harold. I’m your best mate.”

“Something happened in the bedroom.”

“He has a small dick, hasn’t he?” Louis deadpanned.

“Jesus. No.” he rushed out. How to admit to someone he liked that he was intimate with another man? He didn't want to divulge his sexual encounters with Louis because they didn’t involve him. “It’s more about what was _said_.”

Louis’ face fell, “Did he force you? If he was rude to you or hurt you, I’m gonna kick him in the nuts.”

“No, no. You don’t have to defend my honour. It’s just what he said while we were about to do it, it was a turn off,” Harry confessed.

“So you haven’t? Now I am really curious, Harold, and you can’t tell a story for a shit, let me tell you.”

"Well, I’ve said it was embarrassing and now that I think about it, it’s kind of private, too. _Very_ private. And you know him and oh God, this is awkward," he ran hands down his face.

“I’m listening,” Louis started to play again.

“You better keep it to yourself then,” Harry warned, “he has a daddy kink.” 

“Wow. I didn’t see _that_ coming. Wouldn’t have guessed.” Louis wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t even smiling. It was a totally different reaction than the ones Harry got from Niall, the boys or even Gemma. “It’s good he didn’t force it upon you.”

“Right? We talked it through and I told him I can’t see myself going down _that_ road and he was cool with it,” he said. “Everybody has their own tastes. Who am I to judge?”

Louis placed the guitar down, snuggled closer to him and laid his head in Harry’s lap. “Cuddle me. And tell me, what are your kinks then.”

His insides melted because he wanted to cuddle and share… and just be close. His fingers immediately found Louis’ soft, feather-like hair, “Maybe I don’t have any.” 

Louis snorted, “Of course you do, Harold! We all have _something_ that gets us in the mood, but you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He paused, turned his face into Harry’s legs as if to hide his emotions. “I’d never laugh at you if you decided to tell me.”

But Harry withheld his thoughts and decided to keep his questions about Louis’ preferences at bay as well because what if they were compatible? What would Harry do then? Jump his bones? _He couldn’t._ They were friends and Louis’ head was in his lap. He could get excited for sure.

That would certainly ruin everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ! warning - mentions of daddy kink  
> ! warning - implied sexual activities, nothing to graphic
> 
> I have no experience with warnings/ triggers so I hope I am doing it right. I don't want to offend anyone.


	9. Nine

The rest of November went by in a blur. Harry was busy with work preparing for their annual Christmas fundraiser event and other year-end projects. It was a lot, but it wasn’t as stressful compared to what Niall was going through.

Harry barely saw him. Niall was a walking zombie in the morning, returning late at night and often not in the mood to even say _hello_. Harry remembered what it was like at the agency before Christmas. But he was determined to take good care of his friend by keeping him nourished with little snacks he could take with him and leaving dinner on the stove when he arrived home.

Sunday brunch was becoming a weekly tradition. It was a great way to unwind and spend time with each other, laugh and drink endless amounts of Yorkshire tea.

At their last meeting, Harry mentioned that he wouldn’t be hosting the brunch next week because he was going home with his sister to Holmes Chapel for her birthday. 

Liam pitied the poor people who have birthdays in December, because with Christmas coming, it was difficult to pick out _two_ gifts. And it was true, Harry already had a birthday present for Gemma. But he still didn't know what to give her for Christmas. 

Zayn casually mentioned that Louis had it the worst being born on Christmas Eve, no one paid attention but Harry perked up. He had no idea when his birthday was and was certain Louis wouldn’t have told him on his own. 

They decided that they could do a small Christmas celebration together before they left London for the holidays. No gifts, just a lovely dinner and drinks. Niall suggested that they should go away somewhere for New Year's Eve. They could party at the local club anytime and it didn’t sound special. 

Harry offered to arrange it.

By the beginning of December, Harry was in the Christmas spirit. He baked cookies every other day, filled little baker’s boxes for his co-workers, decorated until he was seeing double. He even forced Louis to help him with the gingerbreads even though he was a _proper_ Grinch. He didn't want to talk about presents, holidays, carols, nothing! Louis was sure that if Harry had to prepare students for Christmas concerts and listen to Christmas songs all day long, he would be fed up with it as well. But Harry doubted it. Who could be sick of holiday music!?

The Christmas concert at Louis’ school was amazing. Louis was wearing a black suit, a black turtleneck instead of a shirt. And damn, he looked so handsome, cuddly, and soft. Harry had to intensely remind himself to stop staring with his mouth open. Niall had to remind him that only twice. He never skipped the opportunity to make fun of Harry’s fond stares. After the concert, Liam and Zayn went off somewhere for their date night out. And Niall wasn’t subtle about bringing Yas home, so Louis invited Harry to his place for a glass of wine.

“Take off your jacket, Harold. I’m not sitting at me home with this bloody jacket on, and you aren’t either,” he told him, throwing his over the armchair in the living room. Harry followed suit and _oh, Lord_ , Louis should be forbidden to wear fitted turtlenecks. His waist was so delicate. Good God, he was so beautiful. He had known him for four months and it was nearly impossible to not fall in love with Louis no matter how hard Harry tried. He was failing more and more every day. And what was worse on several occasions, people thought they were a couple. 

_A couple!_

Sometimes it felt real though. They always cuddled when they watched a movie together. They sat side by side when they went out with friends. They texted each other every day – in the morning, during the day, to say good night. But they were _not_ a couple. Louis always backed out from any situation that could lead to something more. And that was when Harry backed down from even trying.

They were and will stay friends! 

“Lou, would you go with me to the Christmas party at the planetarium? I can bring a guest.”

“When is it?”

“It’s next Wednesday at seven,” he gauged Louis’ reaction.

Louis’ eyebrows knitted, “Wednesday?”

"I know," Harry couldn’t hide his disappointment. “But maybe you can give your student a night off to do holiday shopping or to spend time with family or friends?” he rushed out to convince Louis. He tried to avoid sounding too desperate. 

Louis mulled that over for a moment or two. Actually, Harry was certain he would say no. “Yeah, you’re right. I could give them a break for sure. But I’m not wearing a tie.”

Harry was so _fucking_ happy he could just kiss Louis. But he decided against it, only smiled like a love struck fool. Oh wait, he already was.

“You don’t have to. It’s not black tie or anything just business casual. You can just wear what you had on tonight. You looked very handsome,” he shouldn’t have said the last part, but he did anyway. 

“Don’t flatter me, Harold, or I’ll blush.”

“Maybe I _want_ you to blush.” Harry admitted and Louis did blush after all. 

When Harry picked him up on the day of the party, Louis was wearing a black turtleneck again, combined with slim houndstooth check trousers. His hair was longer from when they had first met, his fringe, always combed to the right, sat just above his brow, contrasted perfectly with his beautiful blue irises. He was breathtaking. Literally. Harry had to remind himself to breathe every so often.

“Hi Lou, ready to go?” he greeted him.

“Of course, let me just grab my coat,” Harry held it for him, so Louis just slid his arms inside and put a scarf around his neck. “I thought you said something like business casual not hippie casual,” Louis commented on Harry’s outfit for the night. 

“You don’t like it?” Harry peered down at his clothes. It was a bit extreme, but he was rather fond of his pink trousers and burgundy blazer. He was willing to show off his bold fashion choice.

“I like it, don’t worry. You look _festive_ ,” he mocked him a bit with a cheeky smile on his face. “But maybe we should take a cab since it’s raining.”

“Yeah, I’m one step ahead. Car’s waiting downstairs."

“Such a model, Harold. Let’s go then.”

The party was already in full swing when they arrived. People were dressed in their fancier attire and holding flutes of champagne. Harry stood out a little with his colours amongst them and he enjoyed it, especially when Louis was by his side and more so when he introduced him to his colleagues.

It was like showing off his most prized possession.

Brenda, his beloved co-worker who was in her forties, looked at Louis with a knowing grin. She knew very well that Harry was head over heels for him and that Louis was so out of reach at the same time. She was a wise lady and knew better than to meddle in a situation that was already so complicated. And Harry was glad she wasn’t going to give Louis a hard time for something Harry wasn’t even able to say in front of him. Instead she explained to Louis her job at the planetarium and all about telescopes, which he was very interested in since that time Harry invited him over to watch the night’s sky. 

Brenda took them both to the observatory – pretending she didn’t know Harry had brought him there before. It was amazing how quickly she was able to set different equipment so they could actually _see_ something. Later Brenda excused herself to go look for her husband.

“Are you having a good time, Lou?”

“I am. Brenda is lovely, and your Christmas party is actually fun. Classy. With my colleagues, we usually just go for some beer as a Christmas celebration, nothing fancy.”

“Well fancy doesn’t mean better.”

“I don’t have many chances to dress up,” Louis glanced at him, “I’m glad you invited me, Harry.”

He grinned, “Me too. You’re fun to get tipsy with even if it’s at a work function.” 

“Yup, tipsy on champagne and drunk on stars.”

“Poetic!” Harry said dreamily.

“Don’t mock me, you jerk.” And there it was again – Louis was keeping his distance and not just physically.

“I’m only speaking the truth. And maybe it’s all that poetry you read?”

“I have an idea!” Louis said suddenly. “Let’s go dancing!”

“Wait, you wanna go dancing? Well, that’s new. I thought you didn’t dance.” 

“I surely do dance. Unlike you.” Louis giggled.

“Hey, take that back.” Harry defended himself.

“Your dance style is questionable, Harold. But I’m in the mood and I don’t care what I look like next to a _prima ballerina_ like you.”

They waved for a taxi. The driver recommended a club that was supposed to be one of the trendiest places in London. The taxi driver probably guessed from their clothes that they were interested in something fancy. And this place wasn’t cheap at all but rather the opposite, but Harry didn’t mind as he quickly paid at the entrance. 

After two Long Island iced teas, which Harry would very much regret drinking tomorrow morning, they were dancing together in the crowd. Louis was natural dancer and Harry’s mind was going crazy. He just wanted to touch him, to run his hands up and down his back, to pull Louis flush against his own body, to see how he felt in his arms. But he couldn’t make the first move, he just couldn’t cross that line. Louis wasn’t some random guy who could satisfy his needs for the night. Well at this point Harry was so in love with him that no other man could offer him what he desired. 

He was so screwed. 

They got home around three in the morning, after dancing, drinking and talking for hours at the bar. They shared a taxi to Harry’s flat, but Louis went up and slept over in his ‘own’ room at Liam and Zayn's. 

Total let down.

Before Harry fell asleep, he thought about the man who flirted with Louis at the club. It happened while Harry went to the loo. He only felt a modicum of relief when he found out that Louis had turned the man down. He was jealous. 

Insanely jealous. 

Harry wasn’t surprised in the least. With the way Louis looked in his outfit, with high cheekbones, his radiance, and just all around attractiveness, it was inevitable.

Luckily Louis wasn’t the type who would leave Harry behind and go home with someone else. Or at least this is what he reminded himself of as he returned to his bar stool. Louis wasn’t interested in dating or hooking up.

Christmas dinner was held at Liam and Zayn’s. They decided to cook by themselves because it was always Chef Harry this and Chef Harry that. It was their Christmas present for all the Sunday brunches they had attended since the end of August. Which Harry was grateful for.

They cooked French onion soup and roast turkey breast with baked root veggies. It was delicious. The greatest recognition for Liam was praise from Harry and Yas because they were both excellent cooks. Zayn was really proud of Liam too. He was stressing about it all day long and all Zayn did was give him constant support and sweet kisses to calm his boyfriend down. And it really did turn out fabulous. 

Harry arrived a bit later than he was supposed to. He was on his secret birthday mission which only Zayn knew about. Since Harry found out that Louis’ birthday was on Christmas Eve and that he didn’t even want to celebrate, Harry wanted to surprise him with something special. No one’s birthday should be overlooked, even if it was on a sacred holiday. Everyone deserved recognition.

And from Harry’s point of view, Louis’ birthday was a _big_ deal. He just had a difficult time coming up with the gift idea and he wanted to give him something that would melt his heart, prove to him that Harry _really_ cared. 

But once he got the idea, it didn’t get any easier.

In the end he needed help. But he believed that Louis wouldn’t care if he made it on his own or received assistance from others. It would be appreciated either way.

Harry packed his gift in a big box, wrapped it in _birthday_ wrapping paper, added an oversized blue bow with ‘Happy birthday’ stitched into it, and even the envelope for the card had a huge Happy birthday written on. Hopefully Louis would realize what the occasion was.

Harry was really satisfied with the outcome. The only thing left was how to smuggle the gift inside Louis’ flat. So, with the help from Zayn, and his spare set of keys, Harry managed to sneak in without a hiccup after Louis left for the dinner.

It was uncomfortable to be in Louis’ flat without him there, being around his personal effects, seeing the space lacking Christmas decor. Louis brought life to everything he touched. Who would need a Christmas tree with ornaments and twinkle lights when you had Louis to light up the room?

In the hall there was already packed luggage since Louis was leaving tomorrow as well. They were all going away from London to visit their families. Louis was going to Doncaster by train. Harry was going by car with Gemma early in the morning. Zayn and Liam were dividing their time between both of their families. And Niall was taking Yas to Ireland to introduce her to his wide family. It was a big step for him. Their relationship was going strong and since Yasmin wasn’t visiting her family in Brazil this year, he thought she could experience proper Irish festivities. She was definitely in for a treat. 

Harry left the gift on the small table in the living room. He was curious what Louis would say once he found out. He giggled over his own expectation and hurried back because Louis left right on time and it meant that Harry would arrive late. And what excuse did he have? He lived one floor below Zayn and Liam.

He also had to stop at his own place because he made gingerbread cookies for his friends – he finished decorating them just yesterday. He put them into three large tin boxes for them to take home to their families – one for Niall and Yas, one for Liam and Zayn, and one for Louis. He was proud of himself because amongst traditional shapes of little Christmas trees and angels there were hidden pieces in the shape of penguins. Just for fun. He was betting on Niall to discover them first. 

Niall and Yasmin left the dinner first because they were going for late drinks with her friends. Harry offered himself to help Liam with the dishes. He hated it when the dishes were left until the next day. It was much easier to wash it the same night than to scrub it the next day. 

Zayn vanished with Louis to his room. 

When they finished with the dishes he went after them to return the keys to Zayn and to give his Christmas present to Louis. When he approached the room, the door was ajar, and he could see them in the corner.

He accidentally overheard a bit of their conversation. 

“Do you really want to go to Doncaster?” Zayn asked but Louis’ response was mumbled. “But it’s no longer home for you.” Again, Harry couldn’t make out what Louis said. “Come with us, really. We’d be happy to have you.”

“No way! I’m _not_ impeding on your family time!” Louis’ response was clear as day, his tone rather sharp. 

“Just know the offer is there, alright? We leave in the morning.” Louis just mumbled a thanks and Zayn walked to the door. “Hi, Harry.”

He offered a wave, “Hi! Thanks for the keys.”

“You’re welcome,” Zayn took the key ring from his grasp and hurried down the hallway.

“Weird,” Harry shrugged. He turned to the partially closed door and knocked. “Hey, Lou, it’s me, can I come in?”

“Course.” 

He entered, found Louis by the window looking gloomy, “I know we said we won’t do Christmas gifts, but I got you this.”

“You got me something?” Louis smiled fondly. “I got you something too,” and he pulled out a small package from under the bed. 

“Well, great minds think alike.” Harry handed an envelope to Louis and took the gift from him. “Can I open it now?” 

“Well, I’m opening mine now, Harold, so go ahead.” 

It was a book – thin, a bit worn out poetry book. Harry opened it and there was a ‘L.W. Tomlinson’ scribbled on the inner left side of the hard cover. It was Louis’ book. He turned the front page and there was a handwritten dedication _‘Dear Harry, this book made me fall in love with poetry. I think you should have it. Louis’_. Oh, wow, Harry was speechless. 

“It’s not a new book but I promise, it’s good. I hope you enjoy reading it.”

“Thank you, Lou, I don’t know what to say. Other than that my gift is shit compared to what you’ve just given me. Won’t you miss it? If it is your favourite.”

“No, it’s in good hands now and I know it by heart anyways,” he shook the envelope. “Let me see what you got me.” Louis ripped the envelope to discover two tickets to a piano concert in Royal Albert Hall. 

“You can take whoever you want, it doesn’t have to be me. Just you’ve said you don’t have many opportunities to get dressed up and you love piano, so Merry Christmas, Lou.”

“Of course I’m taking you!” he pulled him into a hug, a very tight and _loving_ hug, “Thank you,” he mumbled in Harry’s ear. “We’ll see each other soon, right? We’ll text each other?” Harry’s eyes misted and not only from the touch but from the worry in Louis’ voice.

As if Harry could go more than a day without hearing from him?

“We better,” Harry warned.

Louis gripped him just a bit tighter, “Okay.”

Later, after he packed both his bags – one for Christmas at home, one for a trip with his friends – he was laying in his bed going through the poems in Louis’ book. They were mainly love poems, really beautiful ones. Did it mean something? What did Louis want to say by giving him his collection of love poetry? He was so confused. Harry wasn’t very good at deconstructing poetry, understanding its underlying meaning, or what the author intended to say to their readers. But Harry still appreciated it even though it would take some time for him to interpret it.

His phone beeped.

_\-- Harry?_

**_\-- Lou?_ **

_\-- How did you find out when my birthday is?_

**_\-- Zayn told me you are a Christmas Eve miracle, heh._ **

**_\-- He lent me his spare key. Surprised?_ **

_\-- I don’t know if I can wait till tomorrow_

**_\-- You can. I believe in you._ **

_\-- But it’s big!_

**_\-- Gonna open it, aren’t you?_ **

_\-- Do apples grow on apple trees?_

**_\-- Okay, open it._ **

_\-- Harry!!! It’s the same one you have. How?_

**_\-- Well…_ **

_\-- You told me, your mother made yours and Niall’s_

**_\-- She did. She made yours too. Well I started by myself, but it was too difficult for someone with so little patience, so I asked her to help me._ **

_\-- You asked your mum to knit me a throw blanket like yours?_

**_\-- Do you like it?_ **

_\--I love it. I’m throwing away my regular one_

**_\-- Please don’t. Happy birthday, Lou!_ **

_\-- Thank you so much. And thank her for me please. This is the best present I got in a long time_

**_\-- Better than the tickets?_ **

_\-- I know they must’ve been pretty expensive… I love both of your gifts_

_\-- You’re the best, Harry_

_\-- Thank you_

_\-- Sorry, I’ll let you sleep. I know you leave early in the morning_

**_\-- Good night xx_ **


	10. Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some content warning in notes below.

The New Year’s trip, as they nicknamed it, was a three day stay in a cottage in the middle of nowhere, or rather in the middle of nowhere in the middle of Northern Scotland. It took Harry eight hours to get there. He took an hour-long lunch break in Glasgow since he was driving alone, and he wanted to rest up enough to be able to drive safely. 

Niall and Yas flew to Edinburgh, where they rented a car, and then it took them another three and a half hours. Harry didn’t want to ask how the journey was for Zayn, Liam and Louis. Their tired expressions were speaking for themselves.

Late in the evening, a while after dinner and after about eight bottles of wine, they were drunkenly lying in the living room. Louis stopped playing guitar a long time ago and was just cuddled beside Harry. Zayn was sleeping in Liam’s lap. Yas and Niall were squeezed into an armchair beside the fireplace. It was a quiet evening.

And Harry was in heaven.

Yas broke the silence first, “Do you have any resolutions for the new year?” 

“I’m gonna make you the happiest girl in the universe,” Niall boasted and kissed her on her cheek.

“That will be tough, just so you know,” she smiled back at him.

Harry was certain of his resolutions – travel, visit his mum more, enjoy life, find someone _attainable_. He really felt ready for a serious relationship for a while. That sadly meant getting over Louis which seemed nearly impossible especially with him literally lying in his lap. A million thoughts bombarded his mind, “I just want to plan a little less and appreciate what will come. Visit my mum more,” he edited them just a bit.

“Plan a little less? Harry, that doesn’t sound like you at all.” Niall pointed out. 

“Let him be, Niall,” Liam defended him. “If the planner plans to stop planning just let him go with his plan.”

“Haha, _funny_. I should plan to find new friends, you twats. Why am I even trying to put up with you?” Harry played into it. 

“You love us, Harold. That’s why,” Louis murmured.

“True.” Harry sighed dreamily. He _was_ in love but with one of them. The little one with the cheekbones. The one with blue eyes, soft feather-like hair. The one with a gentle touch and kind soul. “But don’t make fun of me, so I like to plan, it’s beneficial for all of you.”

“We know. Harry, if it wasn’t for you, we would be stuck in London for tomorrow’s New Year’s Eve. Just like last year. Not to mention we would have missed the pleasant ride across our beautiful country. This is better, really.” Liam reassured. “Lou, and what are your resolutions for next year?”

“I don’t know actually. I haven’t thought about it yet. Maybe, I’d like to be, dunno, be more fearless, try new things.”

“So, you gonna ask the boy of your dreams out then?” Yasmin asked. 

“Maybe,” Louis whispered. Harry froze. 

_Maybe?_ What did Louis mean by _maybe_? Louis had a crush on someone? Who, when? How come Harry didn’t know anything about it? 

He was so stuck on being friends with Louis it hadn’t even occurred to him that Louis might be in love with some other guy. He tried so hard not to stiffen because Louis was pressed against his side and could without a doubt feel how uneasy Harry became. Shit. _Fucking_ hell. Harry felt like crying or punching something really hard. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. He needed to stay calm so he wouldn’t reveal how he felt. 

And he felt terrible.

“I want to work my way to becoming a partner in the company and be with Zaynie of course,” Liam continued as if Harry’s world hadn’t just ended. 

“Oh, that’s _so_ cute,” Louis said.

“I’m gonna head to bed. ‘m tired,” Harry said and promptly got up, felt Louis collapse onto the cushions with an audible _oof_. 

Harry, nearly stomping, left the room not waiting for any goodnight wishes. He hurried upstairs and locked himself in the bathroom, turned on the faucet to drown everyone out and more so his thoughts. 

He sat at the edge of the tub, gripped his fingers into tight fists until his fingernails bit into his palms. He was hurting, his heart was in pain, his failed attempts at making Louis _his_ brought forth more anguish.

Louis was in love with someone. Louis said he didn’t, couldn’t date. Yet he was in love with _someone_ else. Someone who wasn’t him.

What should he do? Should he go home? It was going to be too difficult to see Louis knowing damn well he would never be his.

He remembered his rings then. _Love and happiness_. He deserved it, right?

He took a deep breath. He’s got this. He would figure it out. He was the planner, right? He could plan his future, he could plan it around Louis, plan until he would get over him.

He would find his love and happiness too.

With his newfound strength, he got up and took a long hot shower. When he entered their room, Louis was sitting on the bed waiting for him. Luckily he was dressed.

“Harry?” Louis’ voice was soft, just audible.

Harry stood a few feet away, “What’s up?” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, fine,” his tone was all wrong but he was still healing because who knew how long he would feel like this.

“You’re a shit liar.”

“Why ask,” he stomped to the bed, yanked at the comforter, “if you _know_ everything?” he snapped. 

He slid under the covers and turned off the light. He turned to the wall and remained silent, pretended he went to sleep. He knew he was being a jerk.

Louis said nothing more but spoke with his actions instead. He climbed into Harry’s bed and draped his arm over Harry’s torso, hugged him close, “You don’t know how lovely you are, even when you're grumpy.” 

Harry’s heart started racing. Then he released a deep breath and relaxed in his arms. He eventually fell asleep to the sound of Louis’ gentle breathing. It was peaceful and he finally felt at ease.

Harry woke up alone. 

Did it happen, or did he dream about it? He sat up and looked around. Louis’ bed was made, he didn’t spend the night there. He really did sleep in Harry’s. With Harry. Spooning him. Geez, he should look for his asthma inhaler. Just in case. 

When he went downstairs everyone except Niall and Yas were already having breakfast. He searched across the room and found Louis looking at him. He had this cheeky grin on his face and Harry smiled back. He poured himself a cup of tea. 

The plan for the last day of the year was simple – go out for a little hike, then prepare some food, some booze and have fun. 

They returned back to the cabin and it was nearly five p.m., a little later than they’d originally thought. Harry was cold. Everyone was. It was partly snowing, partly raining the whole time they were on the trails. 

He and Louis were changing into dry clothes in their room, turned away from one another of course but Harry may have stolen a few glances here and there. 

Louis pulled on these fitted black sweatpants that accentuated his lovely rear and curvy waist. He then decided on a long sleeve polo shirt and well, that was just the cherry on top! He looked so cuddly and soft and how the hell was Harry going to keep his hands to himself?

“You look nice, Lou,” he blurted. 

“Thanks,” Louis turned to Harry, “you look wet. Change your clothes, silly, or you’ll catch a cold.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking– don’t know what to wear,” he had his outfit picked out, he was just too busy staring at Louis’ bum.

“You look great in anything, Harold,” Louis complimented. “Wear something comfy so we can cuddle later.” Harry’s heart skipped a beat. “Can I borrow some of your socks? I can’t find any of mine.”

“Sure,” Harry recovered and threw him a pair. 

“Thanks!” Louis slipped them on and left him alone.

Cuddle? He wanted to cuddle?

Harry dressed in old-pink velvet trousers, a simple white t-shirt and long black cardigan. Before he headed downstairs, he texted his mum and Gemma to enjoy the night. He would call them tomorrow. 

On the main floor, everyone had their hands full. Louis and Zayn were about to light a fire in the fireplace, Liam was carrying wood inside. Niall successfully made a beer tap to work. Yasmin was taking food out of the fridge and Harry joined her in preparing some snacks. 

“Don’t you wanna play a game?” Niall asked.

“You mean a drinking game?” Zayn wondered.

“Yeah, good way to start the evening, don’t you think?” 

“Babe, you will win any drinking game, but the rest of us won’t make it till midnight,” Yas informed.

“Love, we don’t have to do shots, you can drink beer or wine if you want. But, may I suggest tequila?” Niall waggled his eyebrows.

“We should eat before we drink anything,” Liam mentored them. 

“Yes, mum.” Niall said. “What would you like to play? We can eat while playing.”

“Truth or dare? Never have I ever?” Harry offered the two most inane choices.

“Being the only girl here, I don’t know if I trust you with dares,” Yasmin confessed.

“Okay, I’ll start. Pick your poison, my dear friends,” Niall announced. “Never have I ever got a piercing.”

“Shit,” Louis breathed out, “pour me one then and one to Zayn.”

“For me too,” Yas raised her hand. 

“What?” Harry was surprised. “We are boring vanilla dudes, Ni.” 

Zayn raised his hand, “I can change that very easily,” he gestured towards himself. “I’m the reason Lou got any piercings done in the first place. Lips, tongue, nipples,” Harry nearly swallowed his tongue because how glorious would that feel against _his_ tongue? “he doesn’t wear them anymore. But I was gentle. Liam can confirm it as well, right bunny?” he placed one shot in front of Liam as well.

“Lima bean, what did he pierce on you?” Louis was suddenly all curious. 

“I’m not telling, this is not truth or dare. Remember?” Liam flushed, took the shot without another word.

“Now I’m scared, mate,” Niall said. “This wasn’t supposed to be a kinky question.”

The image of Louis with pierced nipples was too much and tongue? He was on the verge of moaning from the thoughts swirling in his head. He cleared his throat, “Drink up, you little pervs. My turn. Never have I ever stood someone up on a date.” 

“I’ve run away from a date once. I told him I was gonna use the bathroom and just hurried away. Does that count?” Yas asked.

“Oh, my girl is a menace, sure it counts!” Niall exclaimed.

“Here is your drink, lady,” Harry pushed the glass towards Yasmin.

“One for me, Harry.” Louis said.

“You too, Louis, that’s mean. How could you?” 

“Well, it was before we taught our dear Louis how to decline a date in advance. Don’t be harsh on him,” Liam revealed.

“You should take at least five shots for what you used to do to them,” Zayn added.

Well, Harry knew from personal experience how good Louis was at rejecting someone. He hid his frown.

“Never have I ever pressed _‘send’_ and then immediately regretted it.” Yas stated. 

And they all had to drink, except for Liam. Niall admitted he accidentally sexted his mother, nothing too explicit, just naughty text. But who’s ever met Niall’s lovely mum knew that she was probably scared for life after that.

Yas once sent an email slandering a colleague to the very same colleague – well, that was very embarrassing, but she managed to lie her way out of it. 

Zayn’s story revolved around a nude photo which he accidentally sent to one of his friends and how he was shocked when he got _‘Okay, your place? Tell me when’_ back. Liam was offended because Zayn never wanted to send him nudes. Zayn explained that he never wanted to send his photos to the wrong number again. And that Liam could look at him whenever he wanted. 

Louis was laughing as he told his story about inviting someone over to his place, but he sent the text to his guitar teacher. She was cool with it because she knew he ‘preferred boys', but Louis ended up begging his mother to find him a different tutor, since he was utterly humiliated. 

Harry once ruined a surprise party when he included Gemma in a group chat where the details were discussed. 

They got progressively drunk as the game continued. There were a lot of innocent questions and stories about how they broke their bones, got out of speeding tickets, used a fake name or experienced summer romances. 

Harry told a story about how he and Niall were thrown out of a bar where they got into a fight. Yas and Liam shared their terrifying experience with catching their parents having sex. Everyone knew parents did it as well, but no one ever wanted to see it. Right? Harry’s mind took a little detour after Louis admitted he’s never gone skinny dipping. Harry would take him– he knew this one place, but it would always be just a dream.

They played and sang till midnight struck. Then _all_ the lovers kissed, and Harry's smile faded quickly since he wouldn’t be experiencing anything like that tonight. He wished Louis a Happy New Year and for a moment he thought he would kiss him too, but even though he was slightly drunk, he didn’t find the courage. 

So he hugged him tightly instead and enjoyed it for what it was. Harry was his friend. Just a friend. He had to drill that fine detail into his brain or else he could never move on. He breathed him in and caught a familiar scent. Louis’ hair smelled like his honey shampoo. This little thief, was he for real? It made him smile despite what happened. He let him go quickly after he realized this was not appropriate for friends to do. 

They were celebrating till half past one. Harry kept his distance and rather occupied Niall because this friendship was much easier to handle at that moment. Then Yasmin called dibs on the shower and winked not so subtly at Niall. Someone was in need for some love. Niall told her he would be right there, he just wanted to finish something with Louis. Zayn was yawning so Liam told him to wait in bed for him too and went to the kitchen where Harry was doing the dishes. He offered to help but Harry sent him upstairs not wanting Zayn to fall asleep before Liam came back. 

He was alone for a bit until Louis hopped on the counter and watched Harry giving his best to the plates and glasses at almost two a.m. 

Louis cleared his throat, “Harry.”

Harry kept his head down to focus on the task and not get distracted by his emotions, “What?" he snapped.

“Harry!” Louis sounded more adamant.

“I’m almost done! I have to finish, just a few more left...” 

Niall often made jokes about him and dirty dishes and just being responsible in general. But Harry knew that in the morning he would be very pleased to find a clean kitchen so he could start cooking right away and not be bothered by doing necessary evil in the form of washing them first. And now it was an excuse not to face Louis or the conversation about who was he in love with, why he slept in his bed last night, why he said he wanted to cuddle, why they were just friends.

“Would you please stop?” 

Harry turned the water off, wiped his hands and turned to Louis. “What is it, Lou, that it couldn’t wait?” he asked with slight annoyance. 

“What’s wrong, Harry?” 

He became defensive, “Nothing. What’s wrong with you?” 

Louis shook his head, “Stop it.”

“Stop what? What am I doing now? I was washing dishes and trying to clean up before bed–”

“Why are you avoiding me?”

Harry flinched, “I’m not avoiding you.”

“You are. You’re acting differently towards me and I don’t know what I did wrong,” Louis pointed out adamantly. “Just fucking say it!”

Harry twisted the dish towel in his hand as his confession sat on the tip of his tongue. He was confused because what would it matter if he told Louis how he felt? What would he gain? 

Louis continued, “I can’t handle it and I feel alone, and I just need to know why my best friend doesn’t even want to sit next to me on New Year’s?”

Harry could cry right here, “It wouldn’t matter anymore, Louis,” he admitted solemnly. “It would just make things complicated.”

Louis hopped down from the counter, stood before him, “It does matter though. Everything you say and tell me matters. We matter for fuck’s sake!” 

“I like you,” Harry blurted in a moment of weakness. “Happy? I like you a lot, a whole lot, so much that it hurts me sometimes because you admitted you don’t want a relationship,” he paused to catch a breath, “and now it seems you’re in love with someone? Was that what you were saying yesterday to Yas? Were you letting me down gently? Was that why you wanted me with Nick so I wouldn’t be alone while you found someone else?” 

“No, Harry–”

“It all adds up and yet it is so convoluted!” Harry dropped the towel, “and you wanted to _cuddle later_? When? After dinner? Before we drank? And as friends? Are we cuddling _as friends_!? Because I can’t–”

Louis kissed him. 

Out of the blue. 

On the lips. 

Harry froze in place, his heart rattled in his chest, his excitement exploded! He tried his best to not overreact though. Louis looked him in the eyes, they were standing so close. Louis got up on his tip toes again and placed another kiss on Harry’s lips, the softest one. It felt amazing, a shiver ran through Harry’s whole body. Louis licked his bottom lip, looped his arms around Harry’s neck and deepened the kiss. Harry was losing it and he didn’t understand it at all. Louis was so tender as he held him. It was everything Harry ever wanted – having this extraordinary man in his arms **.**

Louis broke away for a moment, whispering against Harry’s lips, “I fear this. I fear my feelings because it’s difficult for me to open up and give my control over to you, to let you in. Put my faith in you. But I like you, too. A whole lot.” His tone was just audible. “But I trust you. I know we’ll be okay.”

Harry managed to start breathing again, “Lou.”

Louis bit at his lip, “I need you. I’ve come to that conclusion a while ago and–”

Harry didn’t wait for him to finish that thought. He finally went with his gut and laid a passionate kiss on Louis’ awaiting mouth. He brushed their lips together, savoured in the softness.

Harry gazed into his lovely eyes, took in each iris individually for the first time, and admired their beauty. There were secrets hidden in them, many untold stories and experiences. Something made Louis fearful, held him back, maybe made him hurt. But Harry had just found out a new reason and hope. He would be there for Louis no matter what. Because Louis wanted him beside. 

“What is it?” Louis broke his trance. 

Harry was fully aware of Louis’ arms around his neck and they were rather close in general. It was the perfect moment for something more to happen. He took the opportunity to touch Louis’ smooth cheek, ran his thumb across his jawline and bottom lip, “I don’t know if I should ask or just kiss you again without permission.”

Louis grinned, “You didn’t ask before so what’s changed?”

So he took that as his invitation and placed his lips upon Louis’ once more. And kissed him with as much passion as he was able to muster, pushed him into the countertop and it was like the floodgates flew open releasing every ounce of love he held within himself. It was an emotional rollercoaster, a moment of joy, of sadness, moment of relief. It was magical and Harry wanted to kiss Louis until their lips were chapped.

Louis stopped for a moment but remained close, “Can we, can we um,” his grip tightened, “I want to go upstairs.” 

Harry grabbed his hand and led him back to their room. He tried not to make any noises in the hall but they were giggling, bumping to the walls. Then, he suddenly felt shy. He imagined this moment many times, in every scenario, he had thought of before, they would have been naked already, touching every inch their fingers could reach, sharing kisses. 

But now, he didn’t want to rush it. There was too much to discuss, too many unanswered questions. He closed the door and sat down on the bed, leaned back on his hands. They were staring at each other. Harry felt overwhelmed with how fast this has all turned around. 

Louis took off his hoodie and then pulled off his t-shirt. It ended up somewhere on the floor, Harry really didn’t have time to see what happened to this particular article of clothing because now there was shirtless Louis, his Louis, finally _his_ Louis, pushing him with his kiss backwards on the bed. 

This kiss wasn’t as innocent as the first round. It was both filthy and perfect as they explored each other’s mouths, tongues gliding together in unison. Harry could finally trace Louis’ _‘It is what it is’_ tattoo with his touch. Oh, and his little nipples, they were hard as he went over them with his fingertips. Louis climbed on top of him straddling his waist, pressing down on Harry. He released a groan at the unexpected sensation. 

“God, Lou, you’re perfect,” Harry whimpered, his hands roamed over Louis’ body, touching him the way he’d always dreamed, but it was so much better than anything he had ever imagined. “But, maybe we should– –” he fell silent. 

“What? You don't want to?” Louis asked as he moved against Harry’s body, pressed further down on his lap and excitement. “It doesn’t feel like it.” 

He squeaked, “N-no, of course I want. Just— I didn’t bring _anything_. I never thought this,” he gestured between them, “could be happening.”

Louis kisses at his neck, “Oh.” 

“Safe sex, you know. Can’t forget the condom.” 

“I get it, Harry. I remember very well your damn t-shirt with the two dudes whacking each other off. Do you know I wanted so badly to throw you against the wall and suck you off in your hallway? You and your shirt!” He bit his lip, thrusted his hips forward as a reminder of what Harry’s missing. “But we’ve been drinking, I know, maybe, we should slow down. You’re right.”

Harry kissed him, “I’m more than happy with holding you. And kissing you. I’m already so overwhelmed and oh my God you’re really sitting in my lap,” he gushed.

“And I’m quite comfortable too,” he whispered. 

"We should wait, you know, we have a lot to discuss, okay Lou? Maybe tomorrow we can really sit down and hash it all out because I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the day I’ve met you but you kept throwing me mixed signals."

“I did, too. I promise you I’ve been trying–” Louis choked, diverted his gaze. He seemed distraught.

“Let's save it for tomorrow, yeah?” Harry suggested, kissing him slowly. Louis just nodded in agreement. 

They gazed at each other for a few minutes in silence, shared gentle touches, kissed delicately until Louis spoke up, “It’s hard for me to explain, you know, to open up like this to someone.”

“Don’t be scared,” Harry assured, “I can give you all the time because I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, Lou.”

Louis believed him, “Okay. Okay, thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ! In this chapter there are some “smutty” parts, nothing too graphic, don’t worry. I am quite insecure to describe sexual content so I hope I did a good job and you won’t be disappointed.


	11. Eleven

Harry woke up first the next day, watched Louis lying beside him, sleeping on his stomach with his face partly buried into a pillow. He looked like an angel, there were no wings folded on his back, but his skin was incredibly soft there as Harry’s two fingers walked across them. Louis shivered. 

“Lou, are you cold?” Harry whispered, pulled him closer.

“Sleeping,” he mumbled.

“Not anymore,” he giggled.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Only yours, sleepy head.”

“Harold.”

“So we’re back to ‘Harold’? And here I thought I upgraded to darling or sweetheart.”

Louis looked at him, his gaze unwavering, _“All glowing from his dreamless rest_ _, he holds him closely to his breast,”_ he wrapped his body around Harry’s, _“Warm lip to lip and limb to limb. Until he dies for love of him.”_ he placed a little kiss on his nose. 

“Now look at you in the morning – you look sweet and you can rhyme,” he kissed him back, but on the lips, lingered longer than intended. “Is that your own work of art?”

“It’s not. I could never write something so beautiful. I’m nothing special.”

Harry frowned, “You’re very special, Lou, especially to me. Don’t forget that.” They kissed once more before Harry reluctantly freed himself from Louis’ grasp. “Why don’t you fall back to sleep while I make breakfast?”

“Oh, I could get used to this,” he grinned.

“You better.” Harry pulled the blanket up to cover Louis’ body up to his shoulders and got up. 

Harry took a quick shower, kept it quiet while changing to not to wake Louis again and headed downstairs where breakfast was in full swing. 

With a cheerful ‘good morning’ Harry slid onto one of the chairs and reached out for a jug of apple juice. Liam eyed him curiously and asked if he slept well. Suddenly he felt everyone’s gaze on him. And what? How could they possibly know? He stared back at them, buying some time to figure out what was happening, so he bit into the _croque monsieur_ that Yasmin had placed in front of him in the meanwhile. 

Niall couldn’t hold it any longer, “Are we waiting for your _Sleeping Beauty_ or what? You know Louis will probably sleep till noon. And we want to know now.”

Harry almost choked on his breakfast, “Come again?”

“You were quite loud last night, mate. And the unwashed dishes gave you away,” Liam added with great amusement. 

“We’re happy for you, guys,” Zayn seemed genuinely pleased with the presumed outcome of last night.

“Harry, c’mon, details!” Yas demanded. “We’re dying to know how it finally happened.”

“Well, the _thing_ you are referring to _hasn’t_ happened. And honestly, it’s none of your business.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to brag to them because he did want to shout it out from the rooftop. But at the same time, it was all so new, and Louis wasn’t even there with him to help explain. The events of last night, or early morning, were private and to let their friends know would ruin that moment they shared.

“Wrong!” and Niall sounded exactly like that infamous beep in a knowledge contest when a contestant didn’t manage to answer correctly. “We are emotionally invested in you for months, for _months_. You can’t leave us hanging.” 

“Yeah, we were listening to your miserable rants about each other for so long, we deserve to hear the happy side of the story.” Liam pointed out. 

“We finally stopped being stupid and we kissed. Right there by the kitchen counter.” Louis announced. And everyone’s heads nearly snapped on their necks, they turned them so fast. “The kiss was so good that you all would be green with envy and the world-famous directors would kill to be able to recreate the scene for their romantic movies. We moved upstairs but we didn’t feel like banging on your doors to ask for condoms and lube – you’re welcome by the way – so we just talked and kissed. It’s lame to have sex on New Year’s anyway.” 

Louis sat down next to Harry, “And that’s all, folks. It was amazing. Thanks for your kind support throughout the us-being-daft period. And now let Harry live, please.” He laid a kiss on Harry’s lips. “Good morning, darling.” 

Harry felt so full of love, he could explode right here!

They left Scotland the following day. They switched rides so that Louis was in a car with Harry, and Niall and Yas rode with Liam and Zayn after returning the car they’d rented. 

The journey actually took them all day, approximately ten hours, but they took regular breaks to rest and eat (Niall needed his fair share of snacks to not get grumpy from a long ride). Even so, it gave Harry a lot of alone time with Louis – just the two of them and the road ahead. 

Harry talked about how they had spent Christmas at Holmes Chapel and the lovely gifts he received. He swore the best one was still the book from Louis anyway. He admitted he had started reading several times, but that he needed to be in the right mood for poetry. Louis told him it was fine, that no one could read a poetry book like a novel, it rarely worked like that. 

So far, Harry liked the poem by Yeats the most, and Louis knew which one he meant and recited his favourite verses:

_But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you_

_And loved the sorrows of your changing face_

Harry had to agree, it was beautiful.

Louis was reluctant to talk about Christmas and didn't divulge much past the gingerbread cookies and how they kept him alive. When Harry asked him how his brother Charlie and his mum were, he only mumbled a “still the same” and immediately changed the subject.

Harry drove Louis home. They left both their bags there and decided to surprise Gemma when Harry returned the car to her. Harry wondered how his sister would react. Harry wrote her a text message as soon as they parked in front of her house. She replied that she couldn’t wait for the surprise and that she would be downstairs within five minutes ready for a few pints of beer.

Louis seemed a little nervous at least to Harry, but it turned out he was just cold. Harry was about to comment on Louis’ sneakers but pulled his lovely, brand new boyfriend under his coat to warm him up instead. He couldn’t get enough of kissing him. He loved how Louis became all playful during their snogging sessions. They were really like teenagers. 

Harry’s expectations were enormous. Gemma shrieked when she saw them leaning against her car, _kissing_!

“No way, no way!” She was so happy for them. “Who do I hug first? Oh my God. Well this is really the most surprising surprise of the year.”

“Not that we have some huge competition so far, it’s only the second day of the year,” Louis laughed and hugged her. 

They spent the evening at the local pub not far from her flat and exchanged their stories about Scotland and Gemma’s New Year’s Eve Party in London. 

She confided to them that Matt had called her after midnight to tell her that he missed her. Gemma was not far from buying a plane ticket to New York. Harry advised her not to. Nothing had changed at all, Matt had a job there and Gemma had her life in London and she was finally promoted in December. 

Harry just didn’t understand why she wanted to sacrifice her life accomplishments and leave everything just for Matt’s sake. It didn’t seem fair to him, that he had just called her to come see him. He liked Matt very much, but this seemed selfish to him. Gemma admitted that it was her who wanted to go after him. She missed him too, Matt was actually the only thing missing in her life to be happy again. Tough choice. 

Later, they accompanied Gemma back to her flat and took the subway home. They walked hand in hand from the station. In front of Louis’ building he thanked Harry for a lovely day. It was a sweet ending to a lovely day when Louis told him he would go upstairs for his bag. 

Harry was taken aback as he had thought Louis would invite _him_ upstairs. He stayed over so many times before. What changed? Harry had no idea what was going on. Did he do something? Did he say something inappropriate? They’ve only been official for a day but wasn’t that a reason to invite him up? And why didn’t he just follow Louis inside?

Harry tried to keep it together at least until Louis came back with his stuff. It seemed that the spot right in front of Louis’ building was cursed.

The main door swung open and Louis handed him his bag with a sheepish grin. “Will you come for breakfast tomorrow, Harry? We can cook together,” he asked innocently, as if he hadn’t crushed Harry’s heart a moment ago.

“You want to have breakfast together?” Harry assured himself in disbelief.

“Of course, or we can go to _Doe’s and Deer._ I don’t have any groceries at home anyway.”

“I’d love to," Harry rushed out.

“Meet me there at ten?”

“Yeah. At ten, absolutely. I’ll be here,” Harry agreed.

“Great, goodnight then.” Louis placed a soft kiss on Harry’s mouth. 

Harry kissed him back and gently intertwined their fingers. “Goodnight, Lou.” 

Harry dragged himself home which took about twice as long as usual. He locked himself in his room and let Niall in only after he was reminded that he had Yasmin over and didn't have time all night to convince Harry to talk to him. Talking always helped and Niall was right. 

Why was he even freaking out? Over not having sex with his boyfriend of _two_ days? How petty, Louis just probably needed some alone time and rest after a long day, and they were going for breakfast in the morning – “for fuck sakes” as Niall had said. So, the problem was probably only in Harry’s head. He knew Louis well, Louis hesitated for so long to give their relationship a chance, so it seemed only logical that he won’t jump headfirst into anything. 

Harry was just too eager. 

Harry’s worries disappeared over breakfast with Louis. It was perfect. Louis was in the mood for pancakes, but he said that he would feel as if he was cheating on Harry if he got pancakes from someone else. Harry was moved by it and promised to make him as much pancake as he wanted once they got home. 

They had eggs Benedict and fresh juice with coffee. Harry had finally met John – the owner, who was serving the tables only on Sundays. What a lovely man, he was in his early forties. Louis introduced Harry as ‘his’. It made him feel very important, and calm after his freak out last night.

“You know everyone here, Lou,” Harry commented.

“For the last two years I was either here or staying over at Liam and Zayn’s so of course I know the staff,” Louis took a sip of coffee, “it’s only because of you that I’m at _my_ place more.”

“And do you like it?”

“Yep,” Louis kissed his cheek, “I like it with you.”

“I’m flattered, Lou. I like spending time there with you, too.” He placed his fork down, looked at his boyfriend. “I thought we were gonna spend it together last night.”

“Oh.” Louis’ face fell.

“I mean what I’m trying to say is, we don’t have to be intimate right away you know? It’s something that will happen on its own, naturally. And I want it to be organic, nothing planned but I just,” he puffed his cheeks, “how do you see us doing _this_? Dating?” 

Louis thought for a moment, then said, “Like everyone else?” he held his gaze steady. “I’m just new to this and want to take it at our pace.”

“Have you dated anyone?”

“I have, _before_. But not for a while.” 

“Before what? Did someone hurt you?” But Louis shut down, looked away. “You don’t have to tell me about him, or her or whoever. I’m sorry I asked.” 

"That’s fine. I don’t really wanna talk about my past but to set the record straight–” and he had to laugh, “it was always him. I’ve never ever kissed a girl in my life. But I’ve only had casual flings here and there, never had a serious relationship. But now I want something more. You know.”

“Good.” Harry exhaled, not even knowing he was holding his breath. “So, can I ask you out sometimes?”

Louis snorted, “Go on, Harold, ask me then.”

“Remind me, why do I like you?” God, he was happy, the tension was gone. “Oh, I remember, you are a cheeky little minx, but so, so adorable, I can’t resist you.”

They spent all Sunday together. From _Doe's and Deer_ they went for a walk and ended up in another cute café, which they found by accident as they roamed the streets of London. 

Eventually, they ended up at Louis’ flat, where Harry made a pile of pancakes just to make Louis happy. It almost looked like their usual Sunday from the time when they were still just friends. The difference became apparent in the evening as they watched a movie from the couch together. 

_The Notebook_ was probably boring for Louis (it was true that they had seen this movie together twice before), so he decided to distract Harry and ran his hands under his t-shirt. Harry was determined to keep his eyes on the screen where his beloved scene was approaching. But Louis knew very well what he was doing when he teased Harry with his touches on his bare torso and kissed him on his neck, sucking a small bruise just over his collar bone. Well, Harry has seen _The Notebook_ so many times that he allowed himself to abandon his favourite love story and slammed the laptop shut. 

“Finally.” 

“You are a menace, did you know that?”

“Yes, I’ve been told before.” he giggled. “And did you know you scrunch up your nose just like Noah?” 

“I don’t do that.” 

“You do, and it’s really cute. I thought you got it from him.”

They were kissing hungrily, like two lovers on their honeymoon, kissing with abandon, enjoying this moment as another first. Harry wanted to take it to the next level but remained reserved, allowing Louis to take the lead.

He pulled Harry’s t-shirt up to his neck and traced the swallows tattooed on his chest. “Beautiful.” Louis’ fingers slid down across his nipples to the butterfly tattoo inked on his lower abdomen. Harry groaned in anticipation, keeping his touches to a minimum as to not ruin Louis' slow but painful descent. It was excruciatingly pleasurable. 

Louis’ mouth followed the same path as his fingers, blew hot air over his left nipple and ran his thumb over the right, then switched, drove Harry wild with his tongue and lips. His excitement flourished, awaiting Louis’ next move. The sensations made his toes curl, made him _insanely_ excited and he wanted to touch back and shower Louis’ body with affection!

But he refrained and allowed Louis to work at his own pace, savoured in the gentleness and light sucking of his lips and tongue. It drove him wild!

Louis ended up heading back up towards his collarbones and neck, eventually ended back where he started and kissed him passionately.

At home, Niall immediately commented on Harry’s lovestruck expression to which Harry flipped him off and went to his room to calm himself down. He took a bath with his _Groovy kind of love_ bath bomb he got from Gemma for Christmas, and it was perfect not only because of its rainbow colours but he really liked the sweet floral smell of rosewood and bergamot. 

Before going to bed, he sent Gemma a message to thank her again for the refreshing gift – she knew him well. He felt slightly guilty not to call her – it was Sunday and it was their tradition after all. But they’ve seen each other just yesterday and his mind was occupied by someone else.

**_\-- Hi Lou, are you going to bed?_ **

_\-- I’m already in_

**_\-- What are you wearing?_ **

_\-- Really, Harry?_

**_\-- Just go with it. I had a bath and now I’m thinking of you._ **

_\-- What are you wearing?_

**_\-- Hey, that was my line. You stole it without even answering me. Not fair._ **

_\-- Life’s not fair, darling_

**_\-- Do you have your pyjamas on?_ **

_\-- Not sexy, Harold, really_

**_\-- Lou, don’t be hard on me!_ **

_\-- Nah, I think you wish I was_

_\-- For you_

**_\-- Damn it, your sex talk is better than mine._ **

_\-- Don’t worry, I’ll teach you_

**_\-- Goodnight, Lou. Xxx_ **

_\-- Night, Harry X_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem Louis is reciting to Harry in the morning is a paraphrase of poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox "Dawn" - the pronouns are changed. 
> 
> In the car, they talk about "When You Are Old" by W. B. Yeats.


	12. Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! Some drama in this chapter, please see the notes below if you want to read warning for triggers.

January was cold, but Harry was warmed by the love for his sweet creature. They went to _John’s_ for their usual dates, often went to the movies with the other two couples, and at least once a week they enjoyed a few drinks with friends at _Red Light_ or another local place. 

When they faced Nick as a couple for the first time, he was preparing them his signature cocktails, Louis was being rather obvious that Harry belonged to him as he held him possessively around his waist. Louis wouldn’t admit it in his life, but Harry knew he was the jealous type. 

Harry was happy with Louis. He didn’t understand how he could have ever dated someone else before. Louis was perfect, not only was he incredibly beautiful, but they got along really well. They were best friends. Harry didn’t even count how many times they’d talked into the night about anything and everything.

They often slept together in Louis’ bed, but they still haven’t crossed that bridge. Harry was patient with Louis though. He knew this whole dating thing was unfamiliar to him. But from time to time the normally restrained Louis surprised Harry with some unexpected action that went beyond innocent snogging. 

By now Louis knew how to drive him mad in record time. It usually consisted of some bold nipple play, heavy breathing on his neck, gentle biting and some really unfair grinding _fully clothed_. Louis was just this sinful, delicate angel. And Harry was on the edge all the time. Horny as hell, just a few steps away from losing it. But he was patient. He really was. 

For Zayn’s birthday party Harry baked a special carrot cake and Louis helped him to decorate it with cute marzipan bunnies. Yeah, that’s right, Harry couldn’t resist making a ‘pun’ cake since Liam’s pet name for Zayn was ‘bunny’. Louis cooking and baking skills were getting better and better since he was constantly under Chef Styles’ supervision, but still Louis liked to pretend that both his hands were left to avoid any major helping. But carving and modelling little white bunnies from marzipan was a heroic quest Louis was willing to complete. 

Zayn’s party took place at their flat, similar to Liam’s there were a lot of their mutual friends and it was a lovely gathering. Harry gravitated towards Zayn’s colleagues from _Needle_ who were asking about the artists who previously worked on Harry’s inks. One of them sweet talked Harry into considering a few suitable piercing ideas. But Louis assured him that he already was the coolest guy around. He later whispered to him that Harry wouldn’t ever survive with his nipples pierced. Harry was tipsy enough to contemplate for a moment if he should convince him otherwise.

At the end of January, there was the piano concert in Royal Albert Hall. It was a great opportunity for Harry to plan a wonderful night. He already knew that Louis liked to get dressed up, so he booked seats at the champagne bar at the Hall so they could have drinks and a light dinner before the concert. 

It wasn’t a cheap affair, but it was worth it, he wanted to give Louis an unforgettable evening. He also had something planned for later. He kicked Niall out of their flat for the night – it didn’t even seem silly or embarrassing to him, Niall had the place to himself lately, so it was only fair to _repay_ Harry back. 

Louis was swept off his feet by the date, the evening had been splendid so far. The concert was extraordinary, as well. Harry was really amazed by how emotional classical music made him feel. The last time he had been at a similar event, it had been a school trip and even though it was good it was nowhere near to this experience. 

After the concert, they stopped by for one more glass of wine on their way home. In the taxi back to his flat, they kissed sweetly and held hands in the back, played footsie and giggled like fools. Harry has never been in a better mood.

Inside he helped Louis out of his coat and jacket, hanging it carefully so he wouldn’t wrinkle it. 

“Thank you for such a great evening, Harry.”

“It was _quite_ romantic, right? The best you’ve ever been to?” Harry poked at him.

“I actually really enjoyed the planetarium, just so you know–” Louis said sheepishly.

Harry tapped his chin, “But you said–”

Louis stood before him, touched the lapel on Harry’s shirt “It was a date, right? Our very first one. I loved the star gazing.”

“Wasn’t it cheesy?” Harry asked.

“Just the right amount.” Louis kissed him, standing on his tippy toes and Harry leaned down into the kiss. 

He gripped his boyfriend’s cheeks, “Lou, want to see my butterfly collection? I have it in my bedroom.”

“Smooth, _very_ smooth,” Louis laughed, “you’re impossible, Harry, really, does this line usually work for you?”

He grinned, “Dunno, I was saving it for someone special.”

Harry led him to his room. Louis knew what it looked like, it wasn’t the first time he’d been there, but he was still surprised when Harry turned on the fairy lights. It looked like twinkling stars mimicking their first date, but this time they were on the same page, this time it wasn’t a question how they felt about each other.

Harry began unbuttoning his shirt. Louis followed him to do the same, struggling a little with the button on his collar. 

Harry noticed Louis having difficulties with the buttons, cupped his cheek, “Are you okay? We don’t have to do this.”

“I’m wonderful. Now, kiss me,” Louis demanded.

Harry climbed onto the bed, and pulled Louis next to him, pinning him down underneath his torso, kissing him with his open mouth. He was very gentle but soon he got caught up in the passion between them anyway, rolled his hips and felt Louis’ arousal. He started pressing kisses across Louis’ bare chest where his shirt laid open, made his way lower and lower, kissing and licking on Louis’ exposed tummy.

God, he was beautiful. It seemed unreal, this felt like a dream, it felt unattainable. Harry unbuttoned his dress pants, tried to pull them lower but Louis’ breath hitched. His breathing was getting shallow and uneven. This didn’t look like excitement at all. He looked up and Louis’ pupils were so wide that it was almost impossible to see his blue irises. 

_Was_ he scared?

“Lou?” he asked cautiously. But Louis remained silent, started to tremor and whimper. Suddenly he gripped Harry’s shoulders, his fingernails digging into his skin, and shoved him away, his erratic breathing becoming more audible, more frantic.

“Hey, Lou? Lou! What's going on?” Harry started to panic, too, “Louis!? What's wrong?” Instead of calming him down, Louis’ face went pale. 

Louis tried to stand up but staggered, collapsed back down, “Don’t _look_ at me,” he managed to get out through gritted teeth, but it seemed that he might suffocate himself in his own words. His glassy eyes were wide and unfocused on anything, especially not Harry’s face, before Louis shut them completely, squeezing them shut so tight, it looked painful. By now silent tears of anguish were running down his face, but Louis didn’t even seem to notice them, let alone making any attempt at wiping them away.

“Please, baby, what’s going on?” Harry was beyond worried now. “Calm down. Louis! Please, just calm down,” he insisted, desperately fumbling for the right thing to say. “Don’t fight me. Stay. I’m here. Baby, I’m here.”

On instinct, he gripped Louis around his middle, pulled him back from where he had previously tried to make himself as small as possible on the other side of the bed, and hugged Louis’ trembling body tightly from behind.

At first Louis struggled against his grip, thrashing in Harry’s arms, but with one hand on his chest and the other around his abdomen Harry managed to keep him as still as possible.

Eventually Louis stopped fighting against his restraints, instead resigning to violent sobbing. He was trembling like a leaf, shaking uncontrollably. Harry was frightened, feeling Louis’ racing heart under his palm and the trembling of his shoulders against his collarbones. 

“I’m here. I’m here with you, you have nothing to worry about. You’re safe. Just breathe with me. I’m here,” he whispered.

He was desperately trying to calm Louis down while being on the verge of crying himself. What the hell was happening? He didn’t know what to do. How could he even help him when _he_ was so frightened? 

“You’re fine,” Harry managed to lie, convincingly. He had always been a horrendous liar. But even if he had not the faintest idea what was actually happening right now, or if in fact everything would be alright eventually, he somehow knew that he needed to reassure Louis that it would be. “You’ll be alright. I’m here with you, Lou. Please, breathe with me. Just breathe. You’re gonna be ok. You’re not alone.” he mumbled over and over.

As Louis’ breathing began to even out, Harry asked him if he heard what he was saying. Louis just sighed as an answer. Gradually, the tension in his body eased. Harry thumbed away any stray tears from his cheeks and whispered to him that nothing was happening, that everything was okay. That _they_ were okay because they were and so was Louis.

The whole incident didn’t last long, but it felt like eternity to Harry. When Louis’ body became totally pliant and his breathing and heartbeat went back to normal, he turned him in his arms, so they were facing each other.

"Feeling better, Louis?”

“Uh-huh,” Louis nodded. 

“Do you need anything?” 

“No.”

“Maybe water? You should drink.”

“No.”

"Should we talk? Lou, you’ve scared me.” Instead of an answer, Louis lazily blinked as if relaying his answer in Morse code. “Should I leave you alone? Do you need some time? Tell me please, because I don’t know what happened. Did I hurt you? Do you want me to leave?”

“ _Don’t_ leave me.” Louis begged. He closed his frightened eyes. “Tired.”

“You can sleep, baby. I’ll stay, don’t worry.” He wanted to kiss away all the fears Louis had. But honestly, he was reluctant to even touch him right now. He didn’t want to cause him any harm. Not again. 

Soon after, Louis fell asleep, but Harry was wide awake. After a little while he got out of bed while Louis laid there wrapped in a duvet like a burrito. Harry was pacing around in the living room, in the kitchen, back to his bedroom. He wished he could go for a walk, it would help. But he was afraid to leave Louis alone. He promised he would stay. 

Harry was replaying the events of the evening in his head. What the hell happened? Did Louis have a panic attack? Or was it an anxiety attack? Did he hurt him? He didn't pressure him, right? Was all this Harry’s fault? So many questions and no answers. 

Fucking hell. He just wanted to take off his pants. Nothing more. Well, Harry wanted more. But nothing more happened. He didn’t understand anything. He was so tired. He regularly checked on Louis if he was still breathing. If he was calm and sleeping. Finally, he pulled on the bottom of his pyjamas and lay down on the bed next to him. He gently hugged his _little spoon_ until he fell asleep, too. 

Harry woke up little after ten in the morning. He stumbled out of bed, rubbing his eyes. Harry went to see where Louis was. He wasn’t in the living room, nor in the kitchen. Harry was confused. Where was he? He texted him immediately. Maybe he went upstairs, not wanting to wake Harry up. It was something Louis would do. But then Harry remembered what happened yesterday.

Harry _needed_ to speak to Louis immediately.

He ran up the stairs, taking two at a time, and banged loudly below the 5A sign.

“What the hell, Harry.” Liam deadpanned. “Decent people are still asleep!” he yawned. 

“Is Louis here?” he asked frantically.

“Dunno, you just woke me up.” Harry brushed past Liam inviting himself inside and went straight to Louis’ bedroom. It was empty. He wasn’t there either. He called him again. This time the call wasn’t even connected. Maybe its battery died. Or Louis turned it off. 

Shit. 

Shit. 

_Shit_. 

“Will you please tell me what’s going on?” Liam demanded and pushed Harry far from his own bedroom, probably not to wake Zayn as well. 

“I can’t find him. And he– I think he had some sort of panic attack last night. But then he slept. But I couldn’t. And I woke up and he wasn’t here. And he isn’t picking up his _fucking_ phone. Did he have a panic attack before!?” he rambled.

“Slow down,” Liam soothed.

“I can’t,” he dialled Louis’s number once more. Nothing.

“Maybe he just went home,” Liam assured. “Go to sleep, you’ll see, he’ll call you later once he gets up.”

“Maybe.” Harry knew that this wasn’t an ordinary situation, but he didn’t want to explain in fear of it being something too personal. “Sorry, Li, for marching in like a mad man. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay. Just let me know when you hear from him.”

Harry went downstairs, looking at the thread of unanswered messages on his phone. 

**_\--Lou, baby, where are you?_ **

****

**_\-- Are you okay? Please pick up the phone._ **

****

**_\-- Please talk to me. I'm sorry for yesterday._**

****

**_\--Call me back._ **

**_\--Lou? Please. Just let me know you’re okay._ **

  
  
  


Oh, God, Harry was freaking out. He wondered when he should ask Gemma or Niall for advice, even though only Louis could explain and fix this. But Louis wasn’t picking up! 

Maybe Liam was right. Louis was sleeping at home, in his own bed. He still felt totally helpless, like Louis was slipping through his fingers. There was only one thing he could think of that would calm him down. 

So he put on his coat and scarf and went to _the_ shop. Not just any shop – he took a bus across half of London to _Sugarcraft Town_. Places of pure bliss and an infinite number of cake decorating supplies, baking equipment, tools and books. 

Harry’s heaven on earth. 

Whoever said that you couldn’t buy happiness, obviously didn’t know _Sugarcraft Town_. It was rather expensive, but Harry’s inner well-being was worth every penny. 

At home, Harry started baking furiously. He decided to make two batches of red velvet cupcakes. Although in the middle of mixing everything, he realized that he could have actually made a regular sized cake. Ever since he knew Louis, cupcakes and muffins were stuck in his head. Damn it. But he kept on going.

The chaos in the kitchen was a reflection of Harry’s brain at the moment but at least the cupcakes looked good when he was done decorating. He felt a little better, but various thoughts and different scenarios still raced through his head, distracting him. 

What was Louis’ deal?

Niall unlocked the door with cheerful shouts, “I’m not here, I’m not here.” But when Harry peeked out of the kitchen, his hair tousled and his expression troubled, he came further to take a better look.

“What the fuck, what happened here, Harry?”

“Nothing.” Harry lied.

“H, this is not nothing?" Niall motions towards the mess. "Where’s Louis?”

Harry diverted his gaze to the floor, “I don’t know.”

“Did you two argue?”

“No,” he whispered.

“Damn it, Harry, quit the shit. What’s going on? Spill it!”

“I don’t know what happened or what _exactly_ happened! We had a wonderful time at the concert, we drank, we talked, we came back here and fooled around,” Niall waggled his eyebrows, “oh shut up!” He grunted but he sobered immediately, his mood turning sour. “But he started freaking out, like really fucking freaking out. It was scary. I didn't know what to do to calm him down.”

“Why didn’t you call? I would have come!”

“It was over and done in like ten, fifteen minutes so it wouldn’t have mattered at that point.” Harry sighed. “He fell asleep immediately and I was a fucking mess. He was already gone when I woke up this morning.”

Niall’s face twisted in disbelief, “What? Did you call him?”

“What do you think, Niall?! Of course I did. He hasn’t picked up!”

“He had a panic attack?”

“I believe so. He was so out of sorts, struggling with breathing. We didn’t speak about it after, he was dead tired. But he seemed fine. I don't know what I did wrong.”

“Why did he freak out? What about?”

“Sex, probably," Harry deadpanned.

“I need a drink for this.” Niall disappeared to his room, reappeared a moment later with a glass filled with his signature whiskey. He took a rather large gulp, handing another glass to Harry, “Go on.”

“I dunno– – I tried to get him naked. And he looked like he was about to die.”

“What? He couldn’t stand being naked in front of you? How do you two shag then?” Harry just glared at him, didn’t elaborate. “Oh, I get it. Sorry. I didn’t mean to be, well, _mean_.”

“We did some stuff, but yeah, we haven’t– – yet. We only managed some kissing, foreplay, you know, the usual. And I assumed he was ready, figured our evening was a turning point," Harry shook his head. “But it wasn’t, and now this happened and I swear I didn’t mean to do anything more. I’d never make him uncomfortable. I love him,” the words tumbled free.

“I know, Harry, I know.” Niall hugged him tightly. “Go talk to him. He’s probably at home, just embarrassed that he overreacted. Bring him some of those cupcakes you baked, he’ll love it. And talk to him. Do you want me to go with you?”

“I need to clean the kitchen.”

“No, you need to clean yourself up. I’ll do the kitchen. Then we’ll take a taxi, I’ll drop you at Louis’ and I’ll go back to see Yas. Okay?”

Harry had been standing in front of Louis's door with a box full of red velvet cupcakes for a while, listening to him play the piano. _Been there, done that._ Standing there unsure if he should just knock, or rather run away. He knew that Louis loved music, he played songs every day on the guitar and piano. By now Harry could easily guess his mood, depending on what he was hearing. 

He didn’t know exactly what he was expecting, but he was a little taken aback that the music he heard through the closed door sounded upbeat, well, certainly not depressing. Weird. If he had to sum up his mental state with a song or a melody, he would probably choose some death knell. Yet Louis was obviously in a much better mood. He kept telling himself that this was in fact a good thing. 

Happy Louis meant happy Harry. 

But Harry was stricken with fear all day, in fact all night as well. And now nothing seemed to be happening. He ceased to understand it all. He couldn’t just stand there and assume, so he knocked on the door loudly.

The music stopped immediately, and Louis answered the door.

Maybe he should have thought about his opening line in advance, “Hi," Harry whispered.

“Harry,” a small grin played at his lips. “Muffins?” he motioned with his chin.

Harry blushed, “Actually, they’re cupcakes.”

“Can I still call you a muffin boy though?” Louis welcomed him in.

“Of course,” Harry agreed with a smile. “But Lou, I think we should talk.”

“So, no beating around the bush, huh.” Louis laughed nervously. It was obvious he wasn’t comfortable. “I'm sorry.”

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry.”

They made a kettle of tea and sat down on the couch after Louis promised to answer any questions Harry might have had.

“Are you feeling better?” Harry asked.

Louis gripped his hand firmly, trying to convince Harry not to be afraid to touch him, “Much better than yesterday.” 

“Why did you leave without a word? You could have left me a note or picked up the phone. I was worried, _really_ fucking worried about you.”

Louis gave him a squeeze, “I’m sorry. I’d love to explain my actions but I dunno if I can– ”

“Lou, I need your honesty. If you don’t wanna be with me I would rather hear it now.”

“What? You think that? Of _course_ I wanna be with you!” Louis stated adamantly.

“So, you are not disgusted by me or anything?” Harry asked.

“God, Harry, no. I was just ashamed, I guess. Embarrassed even, that I didn’t manage to– – handle it. I don’t know what happened to me. I ruined our date. And I’m sorry. Really. You made it so perfect, and I _ruined_ it,” Louis looked down, hiding his features. “I care about you, Harry. You are the best thing that happened to me in a long, very long time. You’re beautiful, smart and so patient with me and I couldn’t have asked for someone better.” He took a deep breath. “You helped me so much yesterday and I can’t thank you enough. You mean so much to me and I’m glad it was you who was with me to work through what happened yesterday.”

Harry felt like crying, for the second time in two days. Yesterday it was because he was petrified, now it was because of the relief that consumed him. “But what exactly happened, Lou?” 

Louis remained silent.

“Was it a panic attack?” Harry asked eventually.

“Yeah, I guess,” he admitted. “I had one years ago. But it never happened since. I forgot how it felt, how debilitating it could be.”

“Do you know why? What happened? Did I cause it? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve been thinking about the trigger a lot today. But I don’t really know.”

“If you weren’t ready, you should have told me."

“I wanted to. I want to have sex with you. It’s not really about that. I just don’t know how to describe it.”

“Are you a virgin?” Harry blurts because it would make sense, it would explain the hesitancy, the fear.

Louis felt embarrassed. He folded himself over his crossed legs, hiding his head in his lap. He groaned and insisted that he wasn’t a virgin, that he could strip out of his clothes in front of Harry right now. He was not ashamed of his body, nor repulsed by Harry, or sex in general. 

“I’m sorry I asked, baby. I just want to understand,” Harry was horrified he was making him feel bad again. 

“It’s just– I was so ready. I wanted it and I most certainly wanted you,” he admitted. “I just felt like I was losing control over the whole situation and forgot how to breathe. I lost it basically. I feel so bad I’ve ruined it for you.”

“No, you didn’t ruin anything, not for me at least. I love you. I’m just worried about you. I wanted to help you, but I didn’t know how,” Harry insisted. “I can wait, go slow, do whatever it is to make you feel comfortable. And if you wanna be in control, be dominant, I’ll just sit back and let you,” he grinned, “dominate.”

“I’m not a _dominant_ , Harold!” he defended himself and for Harry it was the most satisfying ‘ _Harold_ ’ he ever heard from Louis. “I mean, off course, I can take the lead. I’m quite versatile, if you ask. I like sex and I want it with you– – I’m just damaged.”

“You’re not damaged, darling, don’t ever say that. You’re perfect to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ! Panic attack  
> ! Discussing triggers


	13. Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who wants to be warned, please see notes below the chapter.

After Louis’ panic attack, life went on as usual. They spoke about it several times and Harry even did some research on his own to learn how to handle it and assist if Louis were to ever suffer from one again. 

For his birthday, Louis gifted Harry a new acoustic guitar. The sound was wonderful and the gesture more so. Harry resisted a little because he thought it must have cost a pretty penny, but Louis explained him that everyone always needed one more guitar to the count than they currently had. And this one had an amazing sound. Honestly, Harry had the most thoughtful boyfriend. 

They played guitar that day till after midnight. Harry asked him about song writing too but he didn’t say much. It was possible it wasn’t something Louis wanted to discuss in detail however, Harry had been collecting the songs he suspected Louis composed.

Harry himself found his new hobby a little weird, but he wanted Louis to tell him more about it, but Louis always did things at his own pace. Harry knew better than to pressure him. 

Waiting for Louis had always paid off, so far at least. 

Harry hoped, that after the hours of playing, Louis would surprise him with some birthday sex because after all, everyone deserved a little something-something on their special day. But Harry kept reminding himself that _Good things come to those who wait,_ so when Louis jumped him after his shower for a quick rub down, Harry wasn’t disappointed at all. He didn’t even mind that Louis was fully clothed on. 

  
  
  


Harry celebrated his birthday for the last few years mainly by forcing himself and his friends to ‘Give back day’. This year wasn’t any different. He didn’t want any other gifts, just to dedicate their time and energy to volunteering for some organization Harry had chosen. 

On Saturday morning the _gang_ met in front of a local animal shelter, where Harry’s friend Fred was waiting for them, explaining what they would need – cleaning the shelter, cleaning cages and pens, feeding. Cats enjoyed combing, cuddling or scratching at their legs.There were many dogs, too. The shelter encouraged positive interaction with them, such as physical activities and walking. Just the smallest amount could help increase the dog's confidence in people making them more adoptable in the future.

Within a half hour after arriving, they all had their hands full. Zayn was the only one missing because he failed to reschedule a client at _Needle_. But he sent a financial gift through Liam. 

Harry, Gemma and Yasmin opted for the cat shelter section. Niall, Liam and Louis helped with the dogs. When they left in the afternoon, everyone felt grateful after a humbling experience. It was a day well spent.

Harry even decided to adopt a cat and already had her in the carrier when Louis and Niall were returning from their last dog walk. When he saw how Louis looked so relaxed and happy with it, he hesitated and thought about possibly adopting a dog instead, but Olivia, his new cat with a soft grey coat, was so cute and friendly, purring contentedly when he was petting her earlier, so he knew he made the right choice.

Later that night they celebrated Harry’s birthday with all of their friends. They pre-gamed at _Red Light_ , and met up with Leigh-Anne, Jesy, Jade and Perrie there. Louis didn’t look pleased that Nick had come as a guest as well. But Harry didn’t mind the extra attention Louis gave him and the sweet PDA that came along with it. 

He’d take a random snog fest in the middle of a crowded bar any day.

After, they went partying at the club in the city centre. They all had the time of their life letting go of their inhibitions. Harry was pleasantly drunk, enjoying the dirtier version of him and Louis dancing. It was all touchy-feely with some kisses thrown in here and there. It wasn’t overly sexual to make Louis or their friends who were there with them uncomfortable, but it was just enough to show how much they enjoyed each other. 

For next weekend Harry decided to bring Louis along with him to Holmes Chapel to meet his mum. He already told her, and she was excited to finally meet him. He told Louis over the coffee at _John Doe’s_. Sadly, Louis didn’t seem that thrilled as his mother.

“You really want me to meet your mum? It’s so official.” Louis carefully voiced his thoughts aloud. 

But if they weren’t official, what were they then!?

“She wants to meet you, Lou, and I figured going for my birthday would be the best opportunity to do so. I want to show you the town I grew up in, too,” Harry confessed. “I want to meet your mum as well and your brother, right? It’s not outlandish to want to meet each other’s families. Zayn and Liam do it, Niall would probably still be living at home if he was still in Ireland–”

“No, he wouldn’t,” Louis said, his tone hushed. He was stirring his tea, avoiding eye contact.

“You’re missing the point, Louis!” Harry snapped. 

“Then what _is_ your point? You just spewed a whole lot of nonsense in a matter of seconds.” 

“About visiting my mum?” Louis flinched. “Seeing the town?”

“I need to think about it,” he seemed disinterested and not even present which only piqued Harry’s anger.

“Look, if you don’t wanna go, then _don’t_.” 

“This is just so sudden for me, Harry!” Louis defended.

“Sudden? You’re kidding, right? So the next time I need to give you how many days in advance? A week? Two weeks? A _damn_ month?” He continued to be curt. “Well, you can _think_ about it. Or _don’t._ Whatever. I don’t care anymore.” With that Harry rushed out of the coffee shop feeling both agitated and a little regretful.

And Harry can’t even call it an argument, it was more of him losing his shit with Louis and his one step forward three step backwards attitude. Harry most definitely overreacted, but seriously, sometimes he was so insecure about how Louis had seen their relationship, because it seemed that Harry was all in, slowly planning names for their kids and Louis – well – Louis was so careful in getting attached. 

And Harry was battling with where was the line between Louis’ commitment issues and Louis not liking him that much.

**_\-- Gems, am I horrible?_ **

_\-- I'm gonna go with yes. What have you done?_

**_\-- Long story short. We had our first argument._ **

_\-- What about?_

**_\-- Well, maybe I did argue. Louis just stared at me._ **

**_\-- I told him we're going home to visit mum this weekend. He got startled a bit. And I snapped. Also, maybe I yelled at him at John’s where everyone knows us._ **

_\--Oh, you drama queen_

**_\-- Not helping, Gemma!!_ **

**_\-- He said it was too soon. I told him he hasn’t introduced me to anyone from his family at all._ **

****

**_\-- He just doesn’t take our relationship as seriously as I do. He wants to keep his door open. I’m tired of being more invested than he is._ **

_\--Harry. Have you met him? He totally loves you_

**_\-- I told him I loved him. But he didn’t say it back._ **

_\-- Today?_

**_\-- No, a few days ago._ **

_\-- I'm in a meeting. I'll call you in forty. K?_

_\-- Don’t do anything stupid meanwhile_

Forty minutes. _Fucking_ forty minutes. If he was really wrong, forty minutes was a long time, maybe he should go back to apologize right away and not wait at all. But on the other hand, it was bothering him. He was hurt by Louis’ lack of enthusiasm to visit his mum. She was the sweetest person to walk the Earth, she would love Louis. And she was one of the most important people in Harry’s life – most mothers were that for their kids, weren’t they? 

If Louis wasn’t close to his family, there was probably nothing much Harry could do, or not now. Harry wondered where the problem might have been. There was that old photo in Louis’s bedroom, it could have been taken about ten years ago, and that’s all. And Louis didn’t like talking about his family, so most of the time he just didn’t, he would just gloss over the subject.

Maybe Harry could ask Liam sometimes, try and coax it out of him even if it's a snippet of Louis’ past. It could be a fight they had or an argument that caused tension between them. Or what if they’re homophobic?

It was a possibility. 

Harry sank into his bed, doubting rightfulness of his reaction, his dramatic exit, and his unwarranted anger. And to top it off, Louis hasn't reached out to him. Wonderful. He was batting a thousand.

Olivia curled up next to him and began to purr. At least _someone_ loved him. 

Gemma called him fifty minutes later. He told her exactly what happened in the coffee shop. She was kind to him despite thinking that Harry was being an idiot who didn’t ask beforehand and just assumed that Louis would be on board with ‘meeting the parents’ after exactly one month of dating. 

She managed to let him see it from the other side and advised him to let Louis think about it, and mainly to calm himself properly before apologising. Gemma pointed out how Louis was good to him, treated him better than most boyfriends did, and how he was very much committed! And of course, Gemma was right, him being careful didn’t mean, he didn’t care about Harry. 

And the whole ‘I love you’ thing – maybe Louis didn’t hear it. Maybe he sensed Harry really didn’t mean to say it in that moment and that it just slipped in the heat of the emotionally tense situation. Gemma said it was much better to behave in a way that it was clear that it was love than to say it out loud and not act accordingly. Something she had learned from her own personal experience. 

Harry couldn’t hold back and asked her about Matthew. She confided in him that they were in a texting and calling mode. Matt promised her to come for a visit, but she didn’t get her hopes up. Harry would believe him the moment he got off the plane in London, not any sooner.

After they hung up, Harry felt better and worse at the same time. He should have really asked Louis if he wanted to go, invite him, not to just _tell_ him. He was mentally composing his apology to Louis when his phone chimed with a message: 

_\-- Are you home?_

Oh God, oh God. Was it bad? 

_\-- I’m coming over_

Well, Harry was at home for sure, but he was thinking that maybe he should lie so he would buy more time for himself to come up with better reasons for not breaking up. Just in case Louis was coming over to end things with him for being too pushy. 

**_\-- You can come anytime._ **

****

Harry continued typing a quick “I’m sorry” while there were also three dots alerting him that Louis was doing the same. He was faster though.

_\-- Ok. Let’s do it in person_

Ouch. This was definitely bad. Harry feared the worst, but Louis showed up with apology muffins instead. He _baked!_ He baked Harry apple muffins. Harry tried not to cry on the spot. Harry was not overly emotional kind of guy, well he _thought_ he wasn’t. When did he become so sensitive? But his _kitchen-is-a-place-where-you-make-your-tea_ Louis baked him something. 

“Where do you shop for fancy fruit in winter? Really. There were just apples in the grocery store?” 

These were the most horribly looking muffins Harry had ever seen, some were lumpy, too well done, while others raw in the middle. He forgot the cinnamon too, but they were somewhat edible. 

And they were for him. Harry couldn’t feel happier. 

They talked, both had some things to apologize for. Louis told him he wanted to go. He was actually excited to meet Anne since Christmas when he found out she made him the blanket. He just never had met any parents, and it surprised him how effortless Harry made it sound – like it _wasn’t_ a big deal. But to Louis it was, he didn’t date anyone seriously before to even consider meeting the family. 

Harry assured him that she would love him. Harry added that he was sorry he freaked out and stormed out of _John’s_. He admitted he felt insecure and exposed, that he felt like Louis was reserved and wasn’t _that much_ into their relationship. Louis looked rather hurt by Harry’s comment. But as usual he didn’t elaborate much. 

“If I had a family like yours, Harry, I would love to take you home to introduce you,” Louis was saddened, his frown deep. 

Harry hugged him tightly, showering him with gentle little kisses, “You can tell me, you know. Anything. Whenever you’re ready. I’m here,” he said fondly.

“I know. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, I was horrible to you today. And despite that you made me muffins all by yourself. I’m so sorry. I just– I like you so much, Lou.” he decided to keep ‘love you’ to himself this time. 

“I like you too, Harry. And I think we can agree that I’m a better teacher than you. Those muffins were a disaster,” Louis mocked.

“You are a _great_ teacher, I agree. But you also don’t really pay attention in the kitchen, you just distract me with your body and pretty eyes and eat all the ingredients before I manage to use them.”

“Well, have you seen yourself in the kitchen? Passionate, looking like a snack yourself.” Louis giggled, moved Olivia out of his way and cuddled closer to Harry. 

  
  
  


They were supposed to leave for Holmes Chapel on Friday afternoon. Gemma let Harry use her car, she wasn’t coming along since Matthew decided to take a week off and fly to London to see her for the first time in six months. It was a huge gesture. Gemma was on the edge since she found out two days ago. 

For a change, it was Harry who tried to keep the other sane and within the limits of rationality. When he borrowed the keys from her, he wished her good luck and promised to return the car on Sunday and go for a quick coffee with her to share how they both spent the weekend. 

When he picked Louis up, he wasn’t finished packing at all. All that was prepared was a large bouquet for his mother. Harry reassured him that he didn’t really need anything, just the essentials. Harry didn’t plan anything fancy and Louis could borrow some of Harry’s clothes if needed. Maybe he would take Louis to a local restaurant on Saturday, but otherwise he only planned to walk around and have a good time with his mum and his boyfriend. 

They arrived about an hour and a half later than Harry had originally intended and Anne was already waiting for them with dinner. Louis made her very happy with the flowers he got her, though.

As a dessert, they had a small birthday cake that his mother baked for him. Well, the baking skills really run in the family, so did the charm – as Louis whispered to Harry when Anne went to the kitchen to make another teapot.

Louis felt relaxed and Harry was thrilled that everything was going smoothly, he told his mum in advance not to ask Louis much about his family. And so, they talked about music, work, really about everything else. 

Later, Anne excused herself and went to bed. But Harry invited Louis for a midnight walk around town – hand in hand, it was quite romantic. They were able to stargaze and enjoy the night’s sky rather than a projection at the planetarium, even though it was realistic, nothing compares to this.

They may have shared a kiss or two, or three, maybe considered staying out the entire night until dawn, but Harry insisted it was too cold and they soon returned home for a quick shower to warm up.

When he emerged from the bathroom drying his hair only in his underwear, Louis became suddenly very touchy and affectionate. He pressed himself against Harry’s naked torso, got him all excited in no time with his eager fingers and roaming hands. Evidently, he had a plan. When a moment later Louis pulled a nondescript bottle and a small foil packet out of his backpack, Harry’s eyes widened.

Harry gulped nervously, “Now?”

“Oh God, you should see yourself,” Louis giggled.

“We’re in my _childhood_ bedroom and my dear mummy is sleeping in the _other_ room,” Harry reminded him.

“Exactly, she’s sleeping. Younger Harold would be so disappointed in you, passing up this opportunity.” Louis gently bit him on the shoulder.

“I’m not saying _no_ ,” Harry decided to go for it. “We just need to be quiet.”

“Yeah, let’s have some _noiseless_ fun. I can control myself, don’t worry, darling,” Louis teased and pulled Harry down on the bed, “but will you be able to stay quiet once we start?” Louis flipped him onto his back with a devious smirk on his face.

Harry pulled back to ask if Louis was serious. He really wanted to follow through with it, to feel him, but there was this moment of fear, of uncertainty. He really didn’t want Louis to have another panic attack in his mother’s house. What excuse would Harry use then? What would Louis do?

Was his boyfriend for real? 

Well he must have been because not even a second later Harry was sprawled out on his twin sized mattress with Louis’ fingers entwined into his hair as he rocked his body against him. Harry naturally groaned aloud (and probably woke his mother). 

“Thought you were going to be quiet.” Louis whispered to his ear and then pulled down Harry’s underwear.

Harry was about to die.

  
  
  
  


Harry was always a morning person. But he was in such a wonderful mood the following day that even his mother asked why he was so cheerful.

“I’m just happy. Visiting my lovely mum,” he kissed her on her cheek. 

“I find it hard to believe, you’re smiling this big just because of me.”

“Because of you, and of Louis. Isn’t he amazing?”

Harry was chatting with his mum in the kitchen for about an hour before Louis came down to wish them good morning with his own shit eating grin. Harry pursed his lips tightly as he saw the look his mother gave him. Subtlety was evidently not their specialty and he prayed she didn’t think too much into it.

When Anne went to visit her friend, they didn’t hesitate and jumped back into bed. _Twice_. Louis had always been like a drug to him, but now, Harry could satisfy all of his sexual cravings with Louis. And it was mind numbing, toe curling, body tingling good.

Too good to the point where thinking about sitting down caused him a bit of pain. 

While Harry packed the car, his mum and Louis sat down in the living room for a conversation that he caught only snippets of, obviously.

“I’m really glad you decided to come for a visit, Louis.”

"Of course. I was looking forward to meeting you since I found out you helped Harry with the throw blanket for my birthday. That was so thoughtful of you. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Well Harry can be very persuasive when he wants something. And it was very important for him that you have one.”

“Why?”

“He likes you and wants you to feel a piece of home.”

“Home? What do you mean?” 

“I can’t speak for him, you know. But beside him being so persistent, he’s very perceptive as well. And if you’re open to advice from a mother, he is trustworthy and he always wears his heart on his sleeve. He understands more than you might think. You don’t have to be worried to share anything with him.”

Louis remained silent prompting Harry to interrupt, informing them that everything was set and ready to go. They said their goodbyes and Anne invited them to come again whenever they wanted to visit. 

In the end it was a very eventful weekend. Harry was smiling all the way back to London and couldn't believe the milestone he and Louis achieved. 

When he returned Gemma’s car, he thanked God that she herself was busy with Matt and dismissed him, preferring to chat over the phone the next day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ! some sexual content - nothing too explicit


	14. Fourteen

Second half of February passed in a blur of cute afternoon dates, hand holding in public, and the occasional peck on the lips. And fine, some evening romps too.

Harry often stayed over at Louis’. Maybe it was weird, but Harry was more content with their relationship after they became physical. He wasn’t thinking too much about Louis not saying ‘I love you’ back anymore because, well it was maybe a bit too soon for a declaration of love. Not that Harry wasn’t feeling it, he most certainly was, he loved Louis before they even kissed for the first time. 

But he said it in the heat of the moment, it was unplanned, and Louis obviously cared for Harry. He was happy with what he could get. And if there was an unsaid ‘I love you’, who cared? It didn’t bother him anymore, especially if Louis was showing him some proper lovin’ several times a week. 

At the beginning of March, Harry finally managed to organize a triple date which turned out to be very difficult, mainly because Liam and Niall rarely had a completely free evening at the same time. 

They went to the theatre and then to a fancy restaurant for a late over the top dinner with expensive wine, small portions, cloth napkins which one was sorry to wipe their mouth with, and twenty kinds of cutlery. 

Harry felt like he was finally a true adult. The adult with good work, good living, great friends (with good work and good living) all who were dating one another, and his boyfriend. The cutest of them all.

The six of them had been together in a pub or bar many times before, not to mention the countless evenings they’d spent at home with pizza or Chinese take-aways, but that was different. They were all happy, satisfied and ‘grown-up’ and Harry had always imagined such an adulthood. He made it. Louis told him this was the silliest thing he ever heard when he told him in bed later that evening. But Harry was really happy that night.

His joy of adulthood was short lived when an issue came up at work the following day. One of their generous donors suspended his contributions. It was justified by saying that it occurred to them that the planetarium was encouraging a non-scientific program for the masses at the expense of those with a real interest in space. 

Great, that was just great. 

His colleague from the finance department was ready to jump out the window, but her office was on the ground floor, so she just prowled back and forth like a tiger in a cage, trying to not mention that this was probably the result of Harry’s _ingenious_ innovations. She didn’t say anything to him, or rather, she didn’t say it directly to Harry’s face. But the glances of condolences from Harry’s other colleagues in the kitchen indicated that she had told them. 

He felt like a beaten, ragged dog. He even texted Louis that he wouldn’t meet him after work, he was about to leave for home when Louis called him back. 

_“Hi baby, what’s up? Is everything alright?”_

**_“Hi, Lou, sorry, just a disastrous day at work. I don’t feel like going out today.”_ **

_“Do you want me to come over?”_

**_“Yeah, please. That’d be nice, but I'm warning you. I’m in a bad mood.”_ **

_“We can bake…”_

**_“I don’t wanna bake. I just want to, I don’t know…”_ **

_“Well, I’m not baking without you. But we can try my medicine for bad moods.”_

**_“I’m not in the mood for blowies either.”_ **

_“That’s not what I meant. Harold! And your bad, now you’re not getting any.”_

**_“Wait, I didn’t– sorry, I’m in a shit mood.”_ **

_“I can hear that I’m stopping by soon. Yeah?”_

**_“Sure. Can’t wait to see you. Bye Lou.”_ **

_“Bye, darling.”_

Louis came to Harry with dinner, all the inconveniences could be handled better with a full stomach. Harry told him over dinner what had happened at work, how some old-fashioned, too wealthy donor stopped sending money, and how half the planetarium thought it was Harry’s fault. And they failed to mention this to him directly, they were just whispering behind his back. 

That was the worst. 

If anyone thought Harry should be held responsible, they should say so. Plus, there were a lot of purely scientific projects in Harry’s strategy. It may have been true that he had communicated poorly with the donors, but he could do better and if there was such a problem, someone in the fundraising and finance department should have informed him as this doesn’t happen overnight. 

He gradually moved from a state of self-pity to anger. He was _fuming_ by the time he was finished. Louis listened patiently though. He didn’t know exactly what to advise him on, but he told him that when he was sad, frustrated, angry or overwhelmed by emotions in general, whether good or bad, he played. So he picked up the guitar he had given Harry for his birthday and began to play.

Louis’ playing was a calming force for sure. He strummed the guitar and sang for about an hour, and Harry just lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling, thinking about what and how he would do at work tomorrow. When Louis wanted to trade it with him, Harry had to admit that he hadn’t played in about a week because his fingers tingled. 

“Wait come again?” Louis stiffened.

Harry was in a fog, “My fingers tingle, like pins and needles.”

Louis frowned, gripped his fingers and gave them a thorough inspection.

Louis’ exaggerated concern made Harry smile again. His sweet little angel was all worried and nothing could be more endearing at the moment. Yeah, Louis was the best treatment if Harry was feeling blue. He even spent the night since he started later on Fridays. 

In the morning they took Niall for a quick breakfast _to John Doe’s and Deer_ for the first time. Niall couldn’t believe they were showing him such a great place just now. 

On Sunday, everyone agreed to meet for brunch at Harry’s. He was looking forward to it. But when he had to get up early to be able to shop and bring everything home to prepare everything, Harry was swearing like a sailor and cursing his own stupid brunch idea. He still could have been curled up in bed with Louis. Or! Next time they should do the brunch there it would be easier. 

The only, and really not that big of a problem was that Louis’ dining table was small, it was suitable for one, maybe two people if they would have only teacups in front of them. Well, a minor problem. No dining table. The brunch at Louis’ probably wasn’t that wonderful idea after all unless they sat on top of each other.

On second thought maybe it’s not such a bad idea after all.

Harry was distracted that morning. And it was all because of what he had discovered, by accident, when he wanted to borrow some socks from Louis and opened the second drawer of Louis’ dresser, and really, swear to God, it was just seconds before he heard him shouting “of course, take some in the first drawer” from the bathroom. He found a collection of sex toys. 

Its size was not as shocking as its existence in the first place. But when Harry thought about it, the fact that Louis owned something like that wasn’t what left him open-mouthed either. Louis was into men. Gay men often liked a variety of toys, right? Not that he had ever talked to anyone about it. When necessary, he was always able to make himself feel good on his own. He didn’t own any penetrative toy though, never had used one. And maybe that was it, _penetrative_. 

That was the surprising thing. 

It didn’t match what they were doing in bed together. So far. Louis once said he was versatile. But they haven’t done it with roles switched yet but considering what Harry had discovered in Louis’ drawer they should, and fast. 

But now was not the time to think about any of that. Harry had guests coming in a half an hour. Louis was already chatting in their living room with Yas and Niall. And ouch, he just cut himself in the finger. 

“Ah, fuck,” Harry hissed and put his hand under the stream of water. 

“Darling, need some help?” Louis appeared behind him.

“Just that stupid tremor again. I lost feeling in my fingers for a sec and the knife just slipped.”

“Let me see,” Louis demanded to see Harry’s wound, “it’s not that deep. Let’s get that wrapped up.” and he pulled him towards the bathroom where he knew Harry and Niall kept their first aid and pills. Niall and Yas offered they will finish cutting the fruit for brunch.

“Harry, why didn’t you tell me that you still have that trembling? You should go to the doctor.” Louis said.

“It’s nothing. It’s just sometimes,” he tried to brush it off.

“You can’t play guitar without getting cramps in your hand and now you’ve just sliced your finger while cutting fruit. It doesn’t seem like nothing to me!”

Harry was saved by the bell or the scrutiny, Zayn and Liam arrived just in time. 

They had some exciting news. First, they boasted of their new couple tattoos – they both got the same delicate bunny, the difference was that Liam’s was on his forearm as part of his sleeve and Zayn tattooed it himself, while Zayn’s bunny was a little over his bum and was tattooed there by one his colleague under Liam’s careful supervision, of course. 

Second novelty – they booked a weekend for all six of them in a spa and golf resort close to London. Niall looked like he saw a Christmas tree for the first time. No one was more excited than him. 

Unlike Niall, Louis wasn’t too thrilled. He had never even tried golf, so the idea of spending the weekend walking and standing on the grass and trying to hit the ball didn’t appeal to him much. Harry promised him that if he didn’t like it, they could spend more time in the spa. And really – massages and a hot tub with Louis sounded like a wonderful idea. 

When Harry accompanied Louis home later in the evening, Louis told him not to, but Harry wanted to stretch himself after a day of lying and resting on the couch, all he could think about was whether to ask Louis about his drawer. How should he do that? Maybe it would be better not to think too much and ask.

“Lou?”

“Yes, Curly?” he smiled at Harry.

And he went for it, “Are you satisfied with our sex life?” 

Louis’ eyes widened, “Yes, aren’t you?” 

“Of course I am, I just, if you miss or need something you can tell me.”

“The question is, are _you_ enjoying it enough?”

Harry pointed to himself, “Me? This was about you–”

"Well you’re _claiming_ that I may not be fully satisfied with our sex life, so I figured I’d make sure you were, too,” he stopped walking though, expressed his concern with a deep frown.

Harry’s heart plummeted, “I only ask because I accidentally came across your toys in your dresser when I was looking for socks.”

“Oh my God,” he began to giggle. “You saw my sex toys and now you believe I’m not _satisfied_?”

“I know, it’s stupid. But you have a cupboard full of fucking bottom treasure and we’ve never done it that way, so sorry if I feel a bit insecure.”

“Don't feel insecure, I mean I guess I don’t blame you for feeling this way but you have to remember something,” he reached for Harry’s hand, pulled him closer, “I was alone for a long time and I have my needs too, you know? This doesn’t have any reflection on you.” He gave Harry a chaste kiss on the lips. “And bottom treasure? Really?”

“Shut up,” he kissed Louis back. “Just making sure because I like what we do.”

“Me too, darling. You’re the best I ever had.” And that was a huge stroke to Harry’s ego. 

  
  
  


Leaving for a golf weekend with friends was a great end to a challenging but successful two weeks at work. Harry managed to arrange a special event for donors, which was really a chore, because the wealthy people – surprise, surprise – didn’t sit on their arses in the capital but travelled around the world. However, the evening was successful, mainly thanks to space geeks from the science department, who really tried their hardest to present all of their projects and explain to the patrons why they should donate to the program.

In the end, they managed to negotiate even higher financial support than they had before the ‘problem’. Harry couldn’t be any happier, and he hoped the lady from Finance noticed, and ate her heart out.

Now he had a well-deserved weekend with Louis and friends ahead of him. As a bonus, he would be able to play golf with someone of his own level. After all, Niall was a fanatic and their handicaps were different. 

Olivia was in good hands with Gemma and Matt for the weekend. Yes, Matt flew back to London again – seriously, Harry would have to make some time for his sister and discuss everything with her, because they were both so busy and Harry was more behind with everything that was happening with her. But it had one advantage when Matt was in the city, Gemma didn’t need her car, so Harry didn’t have to bribe her to lend it to him.

Despite going to the hotel bar to get drunk on Friday, Niall woke them up at eight in the morning the next day. Time was short, and Niall needed a hearty breakfast before a whole day on the green. 

Louis was probably one of the worst golfers they have ever seen at this resort. He tried to fight it bravely. But his stubbornness made Harry laugh more. So, they disappeared from their group for lunch and no longer planned to join them later. 

Instead of golfing, they booked a private sauna with an ice bath and a relaxation area. It was a wonderful experience they were naked half of the afternoon. After their last session in the pool Harry got cramps in his arm again – Louis patiently massaged him through it, but he didn’t miss his lecture on how Harry should see a doctor.

“Lou, seriously, my body is just tired. Why are you so concerned? You’re being ridiculous.”

“Don’t call me _ridiculous_ , Harold. You’re ridiculous if you think it’s normal to have tremors and cramps in your fingers and arms for I don’t know _how_ long,” Louis countered.

“I’m calling the situation ridiculous, not you,” Harry clarified. “This isn’t something you go to the hospital for. I’ve been stressed out with work. That’s all.”

“But this is real. It’s bothering you for quite some time, Harry.”

“You’re overreacting. It’s probably just a pinched nerve or something.” 

“We are at the spa, there should be some physiotherapist-masseur who will tell you if it is a pinched nerve. So, let’s have a massage and see what they tell you.” Louis practically pleaded.

“Fine, but let’s not discuss it further. I want to enjoy some alone time with you and not to argue about pinched nerves.”

The bad news for Harry, though, was that the physiotherapist checked his muscles and said they were fine, not stiff or blocked. Maybe just his quadriceps and hamstrings deserved more stretching and relaxation. 

In the end, however, it was Louis who was unable to relax. By the end of the weekend, they had argued two more times that Harry could have multiple sclerosis, diabetes, or liver and kidney failure. Louis spent about an hour searching his symptoms on the internet, and Harry shot himself in the foot when he told him he’d better google “how not to ruin a romantic weekend by being a hypochondriac.” 

Tough luck. He should have seen this coming. They haven’t had sex all weekend. He made his bed and now he had to lie in it – alone.

Even though him and Lou were on the fritz, he still had a good time. On Sunday, Zayn and Harry swapped places so he could rejoin the golf group. More so, Niall didn’t do well that day and that was a mischievous reason for Harry’s little fun. But this time Niall didn’t take Harry’s allusions and jokes very seriously, because half of his attention span was just for his girlfriend anyway. Maybe golf was no longer the love of Niall’s life.


	15. Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Serious trigger warning! See notes below

The next Wednesday, Harry met with Niall and Gemma at a pub close to Gemma’s workplace to have some beers and discuss everything that was going on in their lives. And there was a lot! After the third pint, Niall told them that he was in the after _I-love-you_ phase with Yas and that he had never been so happy. 

It was a huge deal for Niall. 

After breaking up with his poor excuse of a girlfriend Chloe, he became hesitant about future relationships. And now he was planning romantic get-away weekends and even a three-week vacation to South America. He had already planned the route for the trip in his mind – from Peru to Bolivia, then Uruguay and back north to Paraguay and finally Brazil where Niall would like to stay the longest.

If Yasmin was up for it, they could visit her family. If not, Brazil was big enough to find another place to stay. Harry was amazed at Niall’s detailed plan. Niall! The very guy who always laughed at him for planning too much. He was going to invite her over this weekend so she would have enough time to arrange a vacation with her job. Niall hoped it would all work out, he already had tickets on reservation for early May, which was a month away.

Gemma announced that Matt was leaving New York. He quit his job and within two months he was about to move back to London, for good, for them. And wow! Harry suddenly felt that everyone was experiencing great things, settling down, finding a foundation. Matthew was a good man, he loved him dearly. Still, he couldn’t quite forgive him that easily for putting his job first instead of his sister. But finally, he came to his senses and Harry was genuinely happy for them. 

They both probably went through a rather difficult period, first they endured a half-year of long distance and then came _the_ breakup. Gemma wore her brave face all the time, but Harry knew how devastated she was. Brighter tomorrows were ahead. And that called for some shots. 

After the fourth round of tequilas, and unknown number of pints, Harry slipped into his drunken ‘sorry’ mood. And that was a mood one wanted to avoid.

“I just don’t understand why he’s not more open,” Harry whined.

“Communication, Harry, it’s all about communication. I’m telling you. If something bothers you, you need to talk it through with Louis. We will never know what’s going through his head.” Niall mentored him. 

How tables had turned – Harry was now listening to relationship advice from Niall. 

“You’re fine. You’re afraid of something that’s not even there. We suffer more from our imagination than from reality,” Gemma insisted. “Louis loves you. You love him. Our mum loves him. She was going on and on how sweet and adorable he was when you came to visit her.” 

“He’s wonderful, I know. I love everything about him. I just don’t understand him sometimes. And when I ask him, he becomes so guarded, closed off,” he groaned. 

“Not everyone goes through life blabbering about every nonsense left and right like you, Harry, and moreover, he _did_ try to open up more, share his feelings and you turned around and gave him shit for it.”

“I beg your pardon, that’s not true!”

“Well you told him off when he expressed himself to you and now you’re wondering why he isn’t telling you his every thought?”

“What did you do, Harry, and why haven’t I heard anything about it?” Gemma asked curiously.

“It’s nothing.”

“No, Harry, tell your sister how you have crippled arm and you mocked Louis for being worried when he asked you to go to the doctors?” 

“You what?”

“First of all, I don’t have a _crippled arm_ , Niall, and I was most certainly not mocking him. I get these tremors in my hands and Louis essentially freaked out and googled every possible disease associated with it. It drove me up the wall!” He explained. “We were supposed to be enjoying a romantic weekend and there we were fighting about my health as if I have a fatal illness or something.”

“Well, Louis is right, H. If you have a tremor, go to the doctor. Louis will be happy you’re not neglecting your health and you will find out what’s wrong with your hand because, honestly, I’ve noticed it. I just thought I was drunk to see properly,” Gemma laughed. 

“Well, you probably have a pinched nerve.” Niall guessed.

“Well, the physiotherapist said it’s not pinched,” he admitted with resignation.

“So, quit being a difficult brat and go to the doctor. Easy. Problem solved.” Niall concluded. 

“And why hasn’t he come today? I was looking forward to seeing him.” Gemma asked.

“Well, it’s Wednesday. He teaches, I think, and then he’s always exhausted and goes home to have an early night. It’s his Wednesday ritual. We rarely see each other in the middle of the week.” Harry said.

“So, he is _‘busy’_ and then he is always _‘tired’_ – oh, maybe he has some secret lover. That’s why he’s so cautious.” 

“Niall!” they both shouted at him. 

“Don’t listen to me, I’m _too_ drunk,” the Irish defended himself poorly.

“Ni, you are _a true friend_ , really. Can’t you see, Harry has already his arm ready for amputation and now he will be also sick in his head. Don’t put these stupid ideas up here.” Gemma tapped on Harry’s head twice.

“Ouch. Gems, that hurts.” Harry groaned. “And Lou doesn’t have any lover. Right?”

“No, he doesn’t, stop talking about it, you idiots. Let’s have some shots instead,” she instructed and waved at the bartender. 

It cost Harry a lot of energy to suffer through the next day at work. He texted with Gemma back and forth since she was also hungover. Where were the times when Harry could drink as if it was the last day on earth and the next day be as fresh as after a ten-hour sleep? They were obviously long gone!

**_\-- I miss you, Lou._ **

_\-- Miss you too, my muffin boy. How was your brawl with Niall and Gems?_

**_\-- Still a bit hungover. But I have some ideas._ **

_\-- Harry, I can’t now, I’m at work_

_\-- So are you!_

**_\-- Ideas for later XXX_ **

****

So later, as they lay naked curled up next to each other in Louis’s bed, Harry kissed him gently. 

“Lou, I made an appointment with the doctor. It’s next week. They’ll do some tests, but it will take some time to get all the results.”

“Really? Thanks, babe. I’m worried about you, you know– –”

“Don’t be, he told me over the phone it shouldn’t be anything serious. Sorry I was so stubborn. I should have made an appointment as soon as I saw you were worried. I thought it would go away on its own.” He kissed him again, this time on top of his head. 

“Don’t get soft on me now, Curly,” Louis waggled his eyebrows and disappeared underneath the sheets.

Louis was not completely himself before Harry’s examination at the doctor. He was anxious all week and more affectionate than normal. He almost didn’t leave the apartment unless it was for work.

Louis preferred to stay in with Harry, cuddling or making out. About three times, Harry was woken up in the middle of the night by Louis playing the piano. The first time, he asked him if anything was going on and lured him back to bed. But Louis just said he couldn’t sleep and sent him back alone. When it happened again and again, Harry just watched him from a distance not wanting to disturb him and let him play. 

Harry was looking forward to all this being over so Louis would stop being so paranoid. When he finally managed to convince Louis to go out for dinner, Louis cancelled on him at the last minute, saying that Zayn needed to deal with something urgent and needed him. 

He was a little disappointed, but he told himself he would take Liam out for a beer at least. He was all the more surprised when Liam let slip that Louis was being restless and begged Zayn to go out with him. Harry remained neutral, but he was boiling with anger and jealousy underneath his mask. 

Why didn’t Louis tell him the truth, why did he lie that Zayn had a problem? Why didn’t he confide in Harry, didn’t he trust him? He was upset, so he deliberately decided to take Liam to _Red Light_. Maybe they’d meet friends there, or Nick. And they did. Liam got caught up with Jade and Perrie, so Harry sat at the bar, flirting with Nick – _God_ knows why. 

Who wouldn’t like some attention and free cocktails?

What Harry didn’t count on was that the _bunny-boyfriends_ couldn’t spend one evening without each other. Zayn dragged Louis to _Red Light_ after their ‘talk’, and Louis was acting all jealous when he found Harry giggling at Nick’s not so funny jokes at the bar. Louis was possessive and Harry’s ego gleefully enjoyed it.

“What were you doing there with him?” Louis began to grill him when they were alone for a moment.

“Just chatting, you know, he was interested in what I have to say, unlike _you_.” Harry deadpanned.

“That’s not fair.”

“You think? You’re the one _lying_.”

“I’m not, I was with Zayn, meanwhile you’re here flirting with a man who’s seen you naked!” Louis gestured towards the bar.

“I wasn’t _flirting_.”

“You probably forgot how we met, Harry. It was when you lied straight to my face _that you weren’t flirting._ Do you remember that? Because I do. You were flirting then, and you were flirting now. I can’t believe you would do that!" 

“I'm not interested in Nick at all, _you_ should know that. He’s not my _daddy_ , my _baby_ , not my _anything_.” Harry was tipsy and felt bold. 

He was cheeky and wanted to provoke Louis, get a rise out of him. And it worked. Because Louis grabbed him by the wrist and twisted it, so it hurt. Then he pulled out twenty out of his pocket and threw it at Nick behind the bar.

“ _Goodbye_ , Nick,” he grinned devilishly and pulled Harry behind himself out of the bar.

Their makeup sex was definitely something Harry would remember for a long time. 

****

**_\-- Niall, I’m healthy. Just some lack of vitamins and stress._ **

_\-- Haha. Great news, H. You’ll see that Louis will become mellow again_

**_\-- Honestly, what a waste of time, I spent over half a day there for doctors to say I’m okay. I’ve been telling him he's a hypochondriac._ **

_\--We should party. Tonight_

**_\--You always have the best ideas._ **

_\--Indigo? We haven’t been there in ages_

**_\-- Yes and yes!_ **

**_\-- Oh, it’s Wednesday. Lou won’t come_ **

_\-- BuSy WeDnEsDAy. Bullshit. Make him_

**_\-- Well, I’m not dying like he thought, he should want to celebrate._ **

It took some convincing to make Louis promise that he would come to _Indigo Caves_ later. He was in an awful mood as Harry could tell over the phone. He was just so stressed out lately. But Harry told him he had good news to share and that he had to come. 

So, Louis said yes. 

Harry on the other hand was in an excellent mood. He had been drinking since half past eight, surrounded by his friends. Niall had made them funny light blue t-shirts with _‘Harry’s not dying. Today’_ on the front (perks of working in advertising, your connections always helped you pull off last minute ideas). It was hilarious. 

But now it was half past ten and Louis hasn't arrived or called. Harry was anxious and no amount of alcohol could relieve it.

“Hey Harry,” Liam announced, “Zayn should be here in ten minutes, he’s just got off the train.”

“Cool, I’m glad he’s coming. He’s probably tired from tattooing all day in Liverpool.”

“He could use letting some steam off,” Liam laughed and ordered himself another whiskey.

“Aww, Louis’s here! H, Louis is here.” Niall shouted and Harry turned around with Nick just beside him and a hand around his neck.

“Hi baby.” Harry’s face lit up when he saw his boyfriend. He wanted to kiss him. But Nick was holding him in place, mimicking “hi baby” to Louis as well. 

“Are you _fucking_ kidding me?” Louis pushed Harry, his lips downturned. Ouch. What a cold shower! Niall, Liam and even Nick froze. 

Harry managed to babble “What the hell,” before Louis was pushing his way through the crowd in the opposite direction. Harry caught up to him though, pulled him by his wrist. 

“What the hell, Louis. What’s your problem now?”

“Oh, I have no problem,” Louis scoffed. “I’m just _leaving_.”

“Nick’s just a friend. You know that. Stop being jealous. We were just having fun so don’t spoil it. And you’re fucking late.”

“Whatever.” Louis tried to twist his hand out of Harry’s hold. “Let me go, I need to leave!"

“As you wish.” Harry was pissed off at Louis. 

He was having a great time and Louis’ jealous behaviour was ruining his night out with friends. He went back to the bar where he took another shot with the guys and assured them that everything was fine, that Louis was just a bit grumpy and went out to get some air. No big deal. 

But a few minutes later Zayn arrived and greeted them with a very similar, “You fucking idiots, are you kidding me?”

“That’s funny, Louis said the same thing,” tipsy Niall blurted out.

“What?” Zayn blanched. “Lou was there? Fuck. Are you serious?”

“Bunny, what’s going on?” Liam attempted to placate his boyfriend.

“Nothing!” 

“Well, evidently it’s _something_ ,” Harry replied curtly. 

“Did he ever tell you?"

“Tell me _what_?” Harry asked.

“Tell you about his mum– and stuff?” 

“About his _mum_? He won’t even introduce me to her!” Harry felt aggrieved. 

“Fucking idiots. Both of you, really. If he would ever listen to me.” Zayn mumbled. 

“I’m confused. Zaynie, what’s this about?” Liam asked.

“I can’t tell you, Li, we need to find him first,” he was getting anxious. “He’s not picking up.” Zayn got frustrated even more. “You can go to our’s and I can go to his flat, Harry would look at home as well.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Harry was stubborn. 

“You fucking moron!” Zayn pushed Harry as he wasn’t much bigger than him. Liam and Niall needed to keep them away, otherwise they might start a fight.

“His mother is dead. You fucker. She’s fucking dead and you are standing here in this stupid shirt.”

Everyone fell silent. 

And Harry nearly collapsed into the bar from the admission. His mind went blank, his eyes were glassy, he was in a fog. He didn't know what to say.

When he finally managed to emerge from his paralysis, he found that Zayn and Liam left, “Wh-where–”

“Here, drink this,” Niall passed him a glass of water. He took three big gulps before turning it down, he didn’t feel well. 

“I need–” he ran to the bathroom and vomited for nearly ten minutes. But he still felt awful and so sick. Nothing would make him feel better until he spoke to Louis.

Louis must have hated him. Zayn definitely didn’t like him now. Louis’ mother was no longer here? Why didn’t he tell him? Harry felt so lost, he was uninformed and such a fool. How could he not know this? It could explain most of Louis’ strange behaviour. 

It wasn’t _weird_ , it all suddenly made a lot of sense. Louis would never speak to him again. He dialled his number anyway. Nothing. His phone was switched off. Niall said that Liam, not even Zayn had found him yet. Still. He went to Louis’ flat. He wanted to wait for him, but angry Zayn kicked him out. He didn’t find it in himself to argue. Not at a time like this. 

When he got home, there were Niall and Gemma. Oh, Gemma came in the middle of the night – that could mean only one thing, he was really screwed. He was sick to his core. Worried sick about his Louis. Where was he? Zayn and Liam were his closest friends and he didn’t reach out to them. He didn’t call Harry. 

Gemma lay down on the bed next to him. She stroked his back, assuring him that everything would be fine. Harry doubted it. Only Zayn knew this, even Liam didn’t know this secret. Why didn’t he tell anyone, why didn’t he tell Harry? He would have listened. He would have been there for him. 

When he woke up in the morning there was no news about Louis. He didn’t come home. Zayn texted him that – with a little, formal sorry for his attitude. But well, Harry deserved Zayn’s cold shoulder. 

Harry took a day off work. He went to Louis’ school to look for him, but he found out that Louis took his vacation for this week. So, Harry went to _John’s_ – honestly, where else could he go to look for him? 

He sat there for six hours. Six freaking hours. He was tired. His eyes hurt, he didn’t cry, but his eyes were sensitive to light. He slept so badly and felt like shit. From time to time he exchanged texts with Gemma, Niall or Liam. No one knew anything new. 

In the afternoon, he mustered up the courage to write to Zayn to meet with him in the coffee shop. He knew in advance that Zayn wouldn’t tell him anything specific. But Zayn was the only one who knew anything, so even though he was mad at him it was his best chance to find out.

“Hi,” Zayn told him as he sat down opposite to him. 

“Have you heard from him?”

“No.”

“Zayn, even if he told you not to tell me, if he doesn’t want to speak to me, just– – I need to know if he’s okay.” Harry tried to persuade him.

“Harry, I’m worried too. I don’t know where he is.” And oh God, his face, Zayn really didn’t know where Louis was. Shit. Harry’s head hit the table. He just wanted to sleep it away and wake up when Louis was back with him. Not knowing was killing him. 

“You can ask, Harry. Ask me, I’ll try to tell you as much as I can.” 

“Thanks, Z, I—I swear I didn’t know. I didn’t know about his mum. He never told me. I would never hurt him on purpose. Niall got those shirts as a joke for us because I had been to the doctor and received good news that it wasn’t anything serious. But Louis was on my back about it and only felt relief when I went,” he sighed. “Now I get it.”

“I know, Liam told me.”

“Liam didn’t know about Louis. How is that possible?”

“I knew Louis briefly before Uni. Our mums were friends, we moved to Bradford when I was eleven, we weren’t in touch for ages. And then he was back in my life and I knew about his mum, but he didn’t want others to know, so I never told anyone. Not even Liam.”

“What happened to his mum?”

“Roselyn? It was a car accident.”

“Oh God, that’s terrible.”

“Do you have his brother’s phone number? Maybe he went to see him.”

“Harry, he doesn’t have a brother.” Zayn swallowed the words and lowered his eyes.

“He does, he told me, Charlie, he has a photo of him at home, I saw it.”

“Not anymore. Louis’s on his own. He doesn’t have anybody. Well he’s got me and Liam, and you– – but he doesn’t have any family left.”

“No, no,” Harry cradled his head, “this can’t be true, this is just not possible.” He was unable to believe it. “They both died in a car accident? That’s horrific. Poor Lou.”

“I don’t know what exactly happened to Charlie, but he died about two years prior to Louis’ mum, I think. I’d never asked what happened, ‘coz he probably wouldn’t even tell me.”

“Why hasn’t he told me? I’d listen– –”

“I don’t know, Harry, it’s hard for him. You know.”

“Where did he go for Christmas then, when he doesn’t have a family?” The more Harry found out, the more questions he had. 

“Home. He still has the house his mother left him. He always goes there during Christmas. The family grave’s there. I was seriously surprised that he didn’t go on his mum’s anniversary this year.”

“Anniversary?” 

“Yeah, yesterday…”

“What? It’s just getting worse and worse– – for me, I mean. Fuck, I’m an arsehole.”

“You didn’t know.”

“Do you know where the house is?” 

“No, maybe he has an address somewhere at home. We can go and have a look.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ! past death of minor character  
> ! injury  
> ! fatal illness


	16. Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For warnings please read below.

Louis’ flat was quiet and dark. And empty. Zayn said it looked exactly the same as last night when he was there which only meant Louis has not been home. Where the hell was he? It was Thursday night now, and Harry was anxious, a total wreck, completely falling apart! He felt as if someone had kicked him in the stomach repeatedly and then pulled out his guts through his mouth. 

How could Louis feel then? 

All of Harry’s messages were undelivered. Louis’ phone was probably long dead or turned off. Zayn stood motionless behind him, silently watching. Harry grazed the surfaces of Louis’ belongings as he gradually walked through the living room. He opened the piano and pressed a few random keys. The instrument howled, it didn’t sound like this when Louis touched it. Harry went through all the rooms to ensure Louis wasn’t there. 

The unmade bed tugged at his heart. 

They spent their last night there before it all happened. Passionate, angry make up sex was different from anything they usually did. But it brought them closer, allowed them to express themselves through their mutual longing and need for one another.

And Harry had provoked Louis, strained him, and wanted all of his attention. Harry was selfish. He fed Louis’ jealousy to enhance his own ego without even knowing what Louis was going through. _Fucking idiot_. Harry had the impression that their sex was often the result of Louis’ attempt to deal with emotions.

Louis was confident in bed, but at the same time always listening to what Harry wanted and how he reacted, an attentive lover. The last time he was demanding, bossy, you could even say dominant although Louis once mentioned he wasn’t into this stuff (but even with his drawer full of toys, he never bottomed once for Harry, so maybe he just wasn’t being honest enough about it). Harry was surprised that Louis choked him a little as a warning to keep him quiet. It was hot, Harry’s cheeks were all flushed just from the memory. 

All of this contrasted so strongly with that one time which ended with Louis’ panic attack. They discussed it several times, and Harry suspected that it was mainly because Harry had taken him by surprise at the time and Louis was losing control of the situation. It was never a matter of sex – as was confirmed so many times after that, Louis loved sex and was _very_ good at it. 

But that one situation was slipping through his fingers, he got a panic attack. And Harry was worried that Louis could have lost control yesterday. Harry firmly hoped he hadn’t caused him another panic episode. Louis was alone. Who would have helped him if he had one?

Harry returned to the living room and sat down on the couch, holding the blanket his mother had made in his lap. “What are we going to do, Zayn?”

“Look for some clues? Try to find the Doncaster address?”

“If something happened to him…” his eyes welled at the thought.

“Don’t go there, mate. He just needed some time. I’m sure. He just usually lets me know.”

“Well, lucky _you_ ,” Harry scoffed but hurried to apologize. “Sorry, Zayn. I’m– – I just, a lot is going through my mind. I’m worried sick.”

“Me too, so stop wailing and let’s look through his stuff.”

“Isn’t it like invading his privacy, what if it makes him mad?” Harry asked, but mainly he was just horrified what else he might find out about his boyfriend which he didn’t know yet.

“Well, then he should have let us know where he had gone, shouldn’t he?” 

The advantage was that Louis really didn’t have many things at home, so there weren’t a lot of places to look. They found some old bills, contracts, irrelevant things.

Zayn was going through his weekly planner from last year, Harry looking over his shoulder. What caught his eye was the red-booked slot almost every Wednesday night. _‘I’m usually busy on Wednesday’_ echoed through Harry’s thoughts. Who even was this avid student? Not ever resting, every week, that meant awfully many lessons a year. There was no address anywhere, no phone number, nothing useful. 

In some other notebooks they found handwritten notes. Zayn thought it was a diary, but Harry put one and one together, because in the diary you don’t usually cross and rewrite that much. And there were chords. Those were Louis’ songs and poems he composed. Harry would give literally anything for this holy grail of Louis’ mind. But he couldn’t just take a piece of his notebook, it was personal, and Zayn would probably throw his hands if he tried to take it. 

Even so, Harry was pleased that he was right, Louis was a composer, he wrote his own songs. It was a small consolation, but it meant that he might know the man who lived here after all, the man whom he thought he loved. 

Their mission was unsuccessful. They left a message on the table for Louis to call to them immediately. Harry hugged Zayn tightly and thanked him for explaining everything and taking him there. Even though they didn’t find anything, he felt grateful that Zayn didn’t shut him down the same way Louis did. 

It meant a lot to Harry, especially after yesterday. Zayn had been so angry with him. He should probably thank Liam later, for persuading Zayn not to leave him hanging. 

He decided to go for a walk alone, whatever seemed better than sitting at home waiting and it was dark by the time he got home. 

He slowly dragged himself up the stairs, he was exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally. He just couldn’t handle it anymore–

There was someone sitting on the floor in front of the door. Oh _Lord_. Louis. It was Louis. Harry dropped to his knees and hugged him close, tightly, with such adoration he never wanted to let go.

“Here you are. Lou, you came! You came back to me,” he cried with relief. “Why are you out here? Niall didn’t let you in?”

“He went upstairs and I’m waiting for _you_ ,” he hugged him back. “I didn’t know if you wanted me here.”

“Of course, I want you here, come inside, you’ll catch a cold sitting on the ground,” he assisted Louis to stand. “Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t anyone tell me that you came back?”

“I didn’t want them to. I needed more time to think it through.” And oh, Harry’s heart sunk. “We need to talk, Harry.”

“I believe we do,” he said with uncertainty.

He offered Louis something to eat, but he turned him down saying he wasn’t hungry. Even so, Harry went to the kitchen to make two large cups of tea. Louis, meanwhile, sat down on the couch in the living room. He looked tired, still wearing the same clothes he had last time. He was tense and fidgety, but Harry’s stomach seemed to be tying itself in knots as well. They were in the same boat.

“Do you wanna start?” Harry broke the silence, nervously rubbing his thighs with his sweaty palms. 

“I– I’m sorry I disappeared without a word, without talking to you.”

“No, I’m sorry I made you. I was being a jerk, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t know– well, that’s not really an excuse for my behaviour,” Harry blurted.

“Harry, no, I’m not mad. It’s— there are some things, about me, about my family that I haven’t told you before or really anyone. I didn’t want your pity,” he admitted, “I didn’t know how to tell you. And then it was too late–”

“It’s not late!” Harry pleaded.

“I feel like I missed the chance many times, especially the other night. I know Zayn told you some things and you’re probably thinking I’m telling you because I feel obligated to but I want to explain my actions. I want you to hear it from me, not a mutual friend,” he looked to his linked fingers. “I hope you still want me after I do.”

“Lou, please, you can tell me anything and I’ll think the same about you. I just want to understand you better.”

“I was waiting for the right time, and I missed it, I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you after we came back from visiting your mum. But we were so caught up in– well, _fucking_ and it’s not something you blurt out in a moment of passion,” he said. “And then you started having the trembling and it freaked me out and I was scared it could be serious.” He looked to Harry then. “I’m relieved it’s nothing and you’re healthy, but I was terrified, and you were being a dick to me about it when I was worried sick. I was afraid I’d lose you, too.”

“You won’t ever lose me,” he promised.

“Well, you never know what can happen. I lost them both and I wasn’t prepared for any of that. Anything can happen. _Anytime_.” Louis said defensively.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” Harry apologized, not knowing what else to say.

“I just got to _Indigo_ after my therapy session and you stood there with _‘not dying today’_ written across your chest. And Nick was there.” He sighed. “It was too much.”

“I’m sorry about Nick, I was being stupid, but he really is just a friend. Nothing more. But, wait what therapy sessions?” 

“I go to therapy. Sometimes with a group, sometimes I go alone. It helps me a lot to deal with the loss.”

“Every Wednesday?”

“Yeah, what did you think I was doing, that I torture some poor kid every week of the year with four hours of piano lessons?”

“Well, I never questioned it much. But Niall once told me that you might have a secret lover.” 

“What?” Louis barked out with laughter. 

“He was just making fun of me.”

“Well, it’s kinda funny considering– never mind. I found this group through John, you know, John from _John Doe’s_ , he goes to the support therapy group as well, his wife passed away a few years ago. I went to his place last night.”

“You were with John? I was sitting there all day, waiting for you to maybe show up. I didn’t know where to look for you since you weren’t at home or with Zayn. Not even at work. I was running out of options.”

“I know you were at the coffee shop all day. Meghan called him. So, John went there to check up on you. He kicked me out right after saying I need to stop being so insecure and go talk to you. And he was right. I need to do it. I just don’t know how to start.” Louis admitted helplessly.

“Tell me how it went chronologically. I didn’t know you knew Zayn from before. I thought you met him during the Uni, just like Liam.”

“Well, Zayn’s family used to live in Donny before, our mums were co-workers and friends. We used to play footie together in their backyard almost every day. They moved to Bradford when I was twelve. Then we didn’t see each other for over seven years. But when we met in Uni, we became friends again.” 

“It was after it happened?” Harry tiptoed carefully around the inevitable.

“Yeah, after everything. I came to London by myself so having a familiar face around was truly life saving for me.”

Harry took a deep breath, he didn’t know how to encourage Louis, it was hard for him to listen and Louis had just scratched the surface so far. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it had been for him. His tears were already on the verge, waiting for the last straw before they would start rolling down Harry’s face. But he was trying his best to be strong for Louis. 

“Well, Charlie, my younger brother, he died,” and his voice cracked, “he died of meningitis two days after my seventeenth birthday.” 

“Oh Lou!” Harry could barely hold it together, so he pulled Louis closer into a hug, wrapping him into his larger frame, stroking his hair and back. “My Lou.” He tried to comfort him. But Louis was sobbing and wasn’t able to talk at all. It took him a while to be able to continue.

“I wanted to go to the ice rink for my birthday, we were skating all day and it began as muscle and joint pain, well, we were pretty tired. But we both got sicker – fever, vomiting. It was so quick after that. The headache was impossible. He got sepsis.” He paused. “He didn’t make it. I did. But he didn’t. Wasn’t strong enough to fight it. It progressed much more severely for him than for me. I don’t know why I got _lucky_. I was in the hospital too, but I didn’t get the complications. He was just gone within twenty four hours.”

It was painful to see Louis trembling in his arms, reliving all the pain and _guilt_. Harry wanted to say that it wasn’t his fault – but it just felt inappropriate because nothing could really make it better. No wonder Louis didn’t like to celebrate his birthday.

“Worst Christmas ever,” Louis tried to downplay it but failed and broke into tears again. It was silent this time, they just rolled down leaving their paths on Louis’ cheeks just like when rain paints its maps on glass windows.

“I’m here for you. You’re not alone anymore. Let me bear some of the weight.” By some miracle, Harry managed to calm Louis down a bit by whispering these little _silly things_. Harry really didn’t have anything clever to say.

“I became much closer with my mum after Charlie passed away. And it seemed we could get better. She missed him so much, but I think she was grateful I was okay and that held her above water. She wanted me to go to a psychologist, thinking I wasn’t doing that great. But I never went back then. I didn’t want to be analysed. I was afraid that it would only show that it was my fault,” he swiped at his cheek. “I made him go skating. It was because of me that he got sick. – It feels so clear now, but it took me many years to forgive myself.” Louis wasn’t crying anymore, he was just talking and Harry was speechless at the horrid details Louis was sharing with him. His strong, brave Louis. He loved him so much. Harry was considering telling him but didn’t want to interrupt.

“And then she had the accident.” Louis was emotionless, no tears left to cry out. Harry was just squeezing his eyes shut. He was terrified. All the time before, he desperately wanted to know what had happened to Louis to make him that guarded, now he was about to find out, but he would rather skip it. 

“She wasn’t even driving. She went with her friends away for the weekend and on their way back home some drunken fucker drove in the opposite direction on the motorway. She died in an ambulance while being transported to the hospital, her friend who was driving got her leg crushed so badly they had to amputate it below the knee. The second friend of hers was injured badly but made a full recovery. Why couldn’t she be the one who _survived_? Why?” 

“I don’t know, Lou. No one knows. It’s not fair, baby.” Harry comforted him, placing small kisses on his hair. 

“It was eleven years on Wednesday.” 

“I didn’t know, Lou, I wouldn’t force you to come to the party if I knew.” Harry apologized. He really was sorry.

“I should have told you. I thought I had it under control. It got better through the years. I don’t even have an urge to drink myself to death anymore. I just usually take a week off work, go back to Doncaster. But I wanted to stay here with you, for your results, to know you were not sick. I was scared I could lose you. But I should’ve just told you sooner about my past.”

“You weren’t ready, Lou, it’s fine I understand.” Harry was petting his hand, slowly tracing the tattoo on his fingers.

“So, this 28?” he asked.

“Yep, it’s for my mum, and for Charlie as well, he was born on June 28th.”

They talked about everything until almost midnight. Louis recounted how, after his mother died, he struggled to cope with the basics of life. How he regretted that he was the one who lived while they – his mum and brother – had the luxury of being gone. 

In his eyes, it was easy to die, but it was difficult to live. He inherited some money and the house, so fortunately he had no existential problems but still he felt so sorry for himself. He drank way too much the first year. But then he decided to put his life together, to make his mother proud of him. He enrolled at university and moved to London. He dived into music and somehow managed to get through the teacher's program. It broke Harry’s heart that Louis had to go through this so young and mostly alone.

Louis told him the truth about his first panic attack. It was after he had found out about the car accident, after realising that he would be alone forever. Harry wanted to shake him – he was there, Zayn and Liam, Niall and Gemma and everybody else. They all loved him so much.

Louis confessed he struggled a lot before he managed to convince himself he didn’t have to be alone. Even so, Louis always had a little trouble keeping relationships, even the friendly ones. The fear of losing someone again paralyzed him. Harry was surprised because he had known him as one of the friendliest people he ever met. Louis admitted that it wasn’t always like that, maybe only for the last two or three years, after he started going to the support group.

While Louis was in the bathroom getting ready for bed, Harry quickly responded to messages from the boys. Well, yes, as far as he could tell and given the circumstances, Louis was fine.

Louis got out of the shower and didn’t even bother to towel himself, leaving wet traces behind him – he always did that. Harry smiled at him. It was seriously so annoying, yet a very cute habit of his. Harry couldn’t even get properly mad at Louis, when he shook his head like a puppy to dry his hair naturally in the air. 

Harry loved how Louis became so domesticated at his place, how he went straight to his closet to grab a t-shirt to sleep in, the boxers were his own – they both stashed some underwear at each other’s flats. Not that Harry wouldn’t let him borrow a pair of his, Louis just didn’t like to wear colourful and crazy patterned ones. 

Louis put Olivia down from the bed. “Go somewhere else, love. I’m sleeping with Curly tonight.”

“Are you jealous of her?” Harry smirked at him. 

“Well, no. But I want some cuddles tonight. And I don’t appreciate it when I open my eyes at night and her eyes are glowing and staring back at me from the dark.”

“Hmm, _scary_!” 

“ _Ha_ _ha_ , very funny.” Louis said ironically, “Now hurry up or I’ll fall asleep before you get back from the bathroom.” 

Harry showered in record time, dried himself and quickly brushed his teeth. He slid under the covers next to Louis, only in his underwear, he was always hot when they slept side by side. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart. Get some rest. I’m right here if you need anything,” he kissed him lightly on his lips and turned off the light. 

“Thank you, Harry. For being here for me, not only today.” Louis kissed him back and turned his back to Harry, sliding down so they would fit together like two spoons. 

They lay together, Harry hugging his smaller boyfriend from behind. He was slowly drifting off to sleep when Louis began to fidget, accidentally brushing his bottom against Harry’s crotch. It shouldn’t make him that excited, but he couldn’t help it. It was sexy, Louis bum was exquisite. 

Louis did it again and Harry groaned.

“Being naughty?” he hissed, grasping Louis’ hips to make him still. Louis gasped under the sudden touch, swallowing his little whimpers. “Baby,” Harry whispered. His breath caressed the skin on Louis’ neck. “Don’t tease me like that. I can’t keep my hands off when you make those _noises_.”

“What if I _want_ your hands on me?” Louis said innocently.

“Lou, seriously. Don’t tempt me, I don’t wanna hurt you. I need you to be sure of this.” In fact, Harry didn’t want to wait at all, he was craving being buried inside of Louis for so long. But he didn’t want to cause him any other panic attack, especially not today.

Then Louis’ trembling fingers slipped under the elastic of his own pants and he pulled them down teasingly, rubbing the soft skin of Harry’s thighs as he dragged them off his own legs and past his feet, pushing his now bare bum more against Harry. Harry bit his bottom lip hard, he felt hazy as he was tracing over the curves in front of him with tender touches.

Harry leaned over him. His breath was shallow and hot. He rolled up Louis’ shirt and wetly peppered kisses over his back. Louis pulled his shirt completely over his head and threw it somewhere next to him. Now he was on his belly, naked and hard. Harry pinned him down with his steady hands and started sucking marks at the nape of his neck. 

Harry’s hands skimmed over his sides. “Are you sure?”

“I can’t bear it any longer, Harry.” Louis begged, words spilling like honey and gold out of his lips. 

“I’ll take care of you,” Harry promised with a small bite on Louis’ neck before soothing the pain with a sweet kiss on the same spot.

Harry lifted himself up and pulled down his underwear in one swift move. Louis shuddered with anticipation. This was an unusual situation for them. 

“Wanna put my mouth on you, is that alright?” Harry asked and Louis nodded, his heart was pounding.

“ _Please_ ,” he begged.

Harry sat back on his heals between Louis’ legs, his hands slid down, squeezing and kneading at the muscles. Louis moaned, pushing back into the touch. Harry’s hands were definitely his weakness. He chuckled and ducked down. “Taste so sweet, baby,” he said, before pressing his open mouth back on him. Louis whined with pleasure.

“You like that, don’t you, Lou? I was wrong all along. I was thinking that the _bottom treasure_ is hidden in your drawer but it’s you, you’re my treasure. And I’m gonna take my time with you, gonna make you feel so good.”

Louis was writhing down on the bed, looking for some friction, pressing his face into his forearms as he was desperately choking back his whining. Harry just turned him over gently. “Let me see you, baby. I wanna hear you, Lou, you make the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard.”

Louis wrapped his legs around his waist, pulling him in even closer. “I love you, Harry.” he confessed.

Harry kissed him softly on his mouth. “I love you, too.” 

It was settled, they were making love tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ! talking about death  
> ! emotional hurt  
> ! smut


	17. Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, enjoy!

Harry woke up in the morning to the sounds of the guitar coming from the living room. He came out of the bedroom and stared sleepily at the sight of Louis playing and Olivia resting beside him. The muffled sounds of his bare feet padding on the floor immediately caught Louis’ attention as he walked towards them. 

“Good morning, darling.”

“Morning, baby, how are you feeling?”

“Amazing. But it would be even better if you called in sick to work and made me breakfast. We could then spend the day in bed together!”

“That’s a very interesting idea, Lou. But if I make, let’s say, pancakes for breakfast, what do I get in return?” Harry teased. 

“I’m gonna trade pancakes for– – one of my songs, one that I wrote.”

“Really? You write songs?” Harry acted surprised. But he waited for this moment for quite some time.

“I think you already knew that, Haz.” Louis saw right through him. Harry had to smile at the new nickname Louis just gave him. 

“Well, I figured,” he admitted, “I was waiting for you to tell me more on your own. I wanna hear them all.”

“Mmm, I have a fan. Who would have thought?” Louis kissed him sweetly leaning over his guitar.

Harry called work, but since he was ‘sick’ already yesterday, it wasn’t a problem to stay home another day. He felt bad for lying but he couldn’t imagine abandoning Louis and going to work anyway. He wouldn’t have done anything anyway with his mind preoccupied. At least this way he wouldn’t have to pretend he was working. He made a brunch-worthy feast. And then they spent all day cuddled together. 

Louis played him some of his songs, saying he usually composed by piano but that it would work even with the guitar. Harry was really amazed, it was beautiful. 

Louis’ lyrics were so pure and honest. He got so emotional singing them and it was making sense, now, that Harry knew a lot more about Louis’ past and his struggles. Harry especially loved the lyrics to the song about being strong and brave. It was so crushing, yet hopeful – true masterpiece in Harry’s eyes.

_Don’t you let it kill you_

_Even when it hurts like hell_

_Oh, whatever tears you apart_

_Don’t let it break your heart_

_Time takes time to heal it_

_You can’t do it by yourself_

_Oh, whatever tears you apart_

_Don’t let it break your heart_

Louis got a bit shy when Harry was praising him, because some of the songs “weren’t completely finished”, but Harry was really astounded and at a loss for words how great Louis was at song writing. He could totally make a living out of it if he would ever be bored with teaching. 

“Lou, you really are so talented. And really, full of surprises.” Harry couldn’t hide his fondness. “Tell me something more about you that I don’t know yet?”

“Well, let’s see… Oh, I know! You probably don’t know that I still go to the shelter we’ve been to on your birthday.”

“Really?” Harry was frankly shocked, because he didn’t know that.

“Yep, I walk the dogs. Well a dog, usually only one dog.”

“That’s great Lou, you can adopt.”

“No, that wouldn’t be a good idea. I’ve thought about it because Clifford is such a sweet boy. But I live alone, and dogs need a lot of attention. It’s not like with cats, they are better at being on their own during the day, you know. Look at Olivia, you’re in love with her and she,” and Louis probably noticed the distress in Harry’s eyes, “she loves you back but rather from a distance.” He giggled anyway.

“That’s rude, Lewis! Olivia, Liv, come here.” Harry held out his hand towards her. He wanted to prove Louis wrong, but the little minx hopped onto Louis’ lap, curled up and started purring. Louis had no other choice than to laugh.

Even after the Friday full of smiles, talks, kisses, touches and yeah, they had sex again (and again, and then _maybe_ once more), Harry knew that it wouldn’t be all rainbows and unicorns. 

Louis was feeling blue the very next morning. He didn’t even get up from bed. Harry had a hunch that freshly baked muffins wouldn’t cut it today, so he crawled back into bed, spooned him and asked if he wanted to go north for the weekend. He tried to express carefully that if Louis needed to go to Donny alone, that he would understand, but that he would love to go with him. After two hours of Louis processing, which consisted of utter silence, Louis had decided and now they stood hand in hand at the train station.

It was a mentally demanding trip, both for Louis and for Harry. The cemetery visit was difficult, they brought a big bouquet and Louis said something like, this was the only way to introduce Harry to his family. They stayed overnight at Louis’ house and it was causing Harry even more anxiety. 

The house was totally empty, all the furniture was moved out except for a piano in what once used to be a living room, and a bed in one of the upstairs rooms. They slept there. To be honest, Louis slept, Harry was staring all night at the ceiling lit by the lights from the street, because there were no curtains anymore. How could have Louis spent his Christmas here? Harry didn’t say it aloud, but he was relieved when they left on Sunday morning. 

After the Donny trip, everything seemed to fall into place. 

At the beginning of May, Niall was getting himself into the mood for his big South American holiday with Yasmin by themed dinner parties with alcohol which he threw at their home every day for a week before their departure. Although Niall sent Harry photos and messages almost every day, Harry missed him, so Louis practically moved in with him. To Liam’s delight, they were able to enjoy more double dates this way.

Also, Matt was back for good and Harry could feel Gemma glowing over the phone. He invited them over for dinner. And for Harry, it was a big deal. Matt was practically family and he had never met Louis once. Harry prepared beef bourguignon for the occasion, Louis selected red wine which thought would go well together. When Harry finally put the last plate with dinner on the table, he froze. 

“Oh my, Gemma, Matt. Congratulations!” Harry squeezed out with a high pitched voice.

“I was wondering when you would notice, Harry. Like c’mon. The ring is bigger than any of yours and it took you so long.” Gemma complained.

“It’s huge! Good choice, Mathew! It’s really pretty.” Harry was examining Gemma’s hand. 

Louis got up abruptly from his chair and without a single word he left the flat. The door just slammed shut. They all exchanged confused looks. 

“What happened?” Matt asked.

“Um,” Harry didn’t know what to say, because he didn’t know what happened.

But the door flew open again and Louis was back with a bottle of champagne. “That calls for a toast, right guys?” he announced.

Harry sighed. “Lou, please, you need to work on this _leaving-without-saying-anything_ , I nearly got a heart attack.”

Dinner turned into a celebration where they drank five bottles of wine. Thank God Harry was always ready when it came to desserts. His mini lemon panna cotta tarts were the right thing for their intimate engagement party.

Gemma and Matt left late. Harry was cleaning up in the kitchen and Louis let _Make You Feel My Love_ by Dylan play. He made Harry dance with him in the kitchen, _like it was a dance floor,_ swaying and singing together. It was so sappy, Harry loved it.

“I think you just qualified as my wedding date.” He kissed Louis tenderly.

“Just?” Louis pretended to be in shock. “Here I thought I was your _only_ choice.” He giggled.

“You’re the only one I want to go with, Lou.” 

“While we’re on this romantic wave now, I wanted to ask you something, Harry?”

“What?” Harry was shocked for real.

“Calm your tits, Harold, I’m not proposing or anything. Well, I _am_ proposing, but not marriage. I just thought that we could go on a holiday together.” Louis explained.

“I’d love to, baby.”

“What do you think?” Louis raised his eyebrows. “Paris?” he added quickly.

“Well, since I’m so in love with you, I think we can fly to Paris. _The city of love._ ”

They went to Paris at the end of June. Louis insisted on planning the whole thing. To Harry’s horror and he found out at the airport, because Louis was mysterious and wanted it to be a surprise, Louis only booked plane tickets and a hotel near the Louvre. That was it. How could he? Louis did it on purpose, he apparently wanted to show Harry that he could have even more fun when he didn’t plan everything out in advance. Louis was excusing himself with Harry’s New Year resolution “to plan a little less and appreciate what would come”. Harry had to admit that it was bulletproof.

They spent the week wandering the streets and soaking the atmosphere of the city. They usually slept all morning, rolling out of the bed in time for a very late brunch. Louis just wanted to experience Paris on his own, no hurry. Every evening they tried to find the smallest restaurant possible where the waiter couldn't even speak English. They usually ordered something they couldn’t translate, although Harry could speak a little bit of French and knew a lot of the culinary vocabulary, it was fun to have no idea what they would be eating. 

Harry’s favourite day was when they stumbled upon a little jewellery shop at _Pont Neuf_. The owner swore it had been there for a hundred years, but Louis whispered to Harry that the man was obviously lying. But they had very unique vintage pieces. Harry could spend hours there and a fortune as well. 

Harry fell in love with every other ring that could fit on his fingers. He bought just one though, with a sun stone. Later, when they were resting in their hotel room, Harry looked the shop up, its name was _Jeanne Danjou et Rousselet_ and it was indeed one hundred years old. He laughed at the idea of the faces his distrustful, cute little boyfriend would pull if he only knew. 

Later that night they bought some food and wine from a shop and fresh French bread from a bakery and sat outside on the porch in the courtyard of _Dominique-Vivant Denon_ centre. 

It was magical. 

There was a fountain and someone playing a violin. It was romantic, maybe a bit over the top, Harry loved it but was afraid Louis would think it was too cliché. Because night in Paris and a fucking violin was playing to their impromtu dinner? But Louis said it was really pretty, he could appreciate good instrumentals.

After returning from Paris, they decided to get a tattoo together. They discussed their ideas for more than a month, unable to agree on a motive that would satisfy them both. The only consensus was to ask Zayn to do it. Louis eventually came up with the idea that it didn't have to be the same tattoo, because neither of them were the same, they both enjoyed various things, their tattoos were quite different as well, so why ink their body with the same? Harry really liked it. 

When they presented their idea of Harry having a rose and Louis having a dagger in the same place on their arms, Zayn was moved. He had the designs ready in three days. Harry and Louis went to _Needle_ together to support each other. It was a fun afternoon. Harry was enjoying the pain, while Louis was antsy. But they chatted with Zayn and the whole session passed quickly. And the result was amazing, Zayn was a really talented artist. 

On their way home Zayn dared to tell them that he wanted to ask Liam to marry him. And wow. 

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Z. Do it, do it! I love weddings.” Harry didn’t even try to hide his excitement. 

“Do you think he will say yes?” Zayn asked.

“ _Yes_.” They both yelled back.

“I just don’t know how to propose? I was thinking maybe at his birthday party?” he hesitated.

“It really doesn’t matter, Z. You’re great together, I know he will be so happy.” Louis hugged him.

“It’s really amazing. Gems and Matt, you and Liam. Love is in the air.” Harry was high with this wedding fever.

“If Niall proposes to Yasmin, I’m leaving the country, just so you know, Harry.” Louis added dryly.

“Aw, Lou, don’t worry, I’m more than satisfied with these two weddings and I’m happy with what we have right now.” Harry looked at their still wrapped arms with new tattoos.

When they arrived, there was Niall and Yas waiting for them. 

“So, how did it go, guys? Bonded by tattoos forever.” Niall grinned.

“Sure.” Louis showed him his bandage. “It’s still covered but I have some pics.” He said and pulled out his phone to show him.

“H, we actually wanted to talk to you.” Niall said after admiring their new tattoos.

“Seriously, I’m gonna leave the country!” Louis warned, both Harry and Zayn laughed while Yasmin and Niall were left clueless.

“We were thinking,” Yasmin had to elbow him, because it took Niall ages to spill it, “we wanna live together, Harry.” he announced shyly.

“You want me to move out?” 

“No. No. I’ve told you the last time, I’m not moving your shit ever again.” Niall kindly reminded him. 

“We already found a new flat.” Yasmin said.

“It’s about three blocks away from Gemma and Matthew. So, don’t worry, we will stay close and in touch, I promise.” Niall added.

“Wow, that’s wow. Congrats, I guess. It sounds great, I’m happy for you.” Harry’s reaction was delayed. He was happy. He really was, but what should he do now? Ask Louis to move in? Get another flatmate? Try living on his own? He wouldn’t want to scare Louis. Louis who has just told him twice that if there would be another wedding he would be running for the hills. 

“Let’s celebrate then,” Zayn offered, “I’ll text Liam to join us. And one, two pints won’t hurt these two with their new tattoos. So let’s go!”

Harry’s phone beeped with a message from Zayn. Harry looked at him with a question in his eyes. Zayn just winked and ushered everyone out. 

_\-- You’re welcome. I think Louis is ready, just don’t ask him right away ;)_

Zayn was a good friend. No wonder Louis adored him so much. 

Louis moved in in mid-September. For Harry it was a great opportunity to redecorate. They needed to fit in Louis’ piano, all of the guitars and books. Niall’s ex-bedroom became an office. Harry bought a lot of blue accessories. Louis liked blue. And Harry would bring him the blue from the sky if he asked for it.

When Louis came from work the next day and heard the barking, his eyes lit up with joy.

“You got me Clifford?” he squatted down petting the dog who was maybe more excited than Louis himself. “Harry, oh my God. Cliffy, good boy.”

“Are you happy, my love?” Harry came closer. 

Louis stood up and fell around Harry’s neck. 

“I’ve never been happier.”

–END–

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, it's been pleasure to write this story. I hope you've enjoyed it. If you did, please let me know. Kudos or comment would be appreciated. I'd love to hear your opinion on my writing.
> 
> You can find me on Twitter as [@Larry_you_know](https://twitter.com/Larry_you_know) or on Tumblr [larryyouknow](https://larryyouknow.tumblr.com) and [here](https://anna-larryyouknow.tumblr.com/post/630360133580603392/talk-to-me-my-very-own-fanfic-is-now-completed) you can reblog it if you want


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